THE GHOSTS OF COTTENAL COURT.

Gaslight note: The following paragraph was eliminated in the 1895 reprint of this story, because readers were writing in asking for specific details:       [The truth of the following ghost story can be vouched for by four of my personal friends, two of whom were utter sceptics where the supernatural was concerned.]

      THE scene of the occurrence is in Worcestershire.

      A great friend of mine, Colonel Edwards, and his wife, being desirous of exploring that county, had taken a lovely old house in the neighbourhood of Worcester, and as a kind of house-warming had invited several of their most intimate friends, myself among the number.

      I will not enter into details of the house, further than to say that, like all old houses of that date, the rooms were oak-panelled, the beds were huge four-posters, and in all other respects were as sombre and old-fashioned, and as comfortable as possible.

      The first evening passed pleasantly, and, after the ladies had gone to their rooms, Edwards came with me to mine, as I wished to show him a curiosity I had found at Constantinople, so we all went up-stairs to put on our smoking-jackets.

      As soon as Edwards and I entered my room we stopped short, astonished by a horrid smell that assailed our nostrils, an odour impossible to describe, as it was at once sickening and suffocating.

      With an exclamation of disgust Edwards rushed to the window and opened it wide.

      "What a loathsome smell!" he exclaimed. "Did you perceive it when you dressed for dinner?"

      "No, I had not, and as I could see he was seriously annoyed about it, I tried to make light of the matter, suggesting it might be a dead rat, but he shook his head, and we went away leaving the window wide open; and a couple of hours later, when I returned to go to bed, all traces had departed.

      I soon undressed, and being wearied with my journey and the lateness of the hour, had scarcely laid my head on the pillow before I was in a sound sleep.

      It could not have lasted long, however, when I awoke with a start and a confused noise, as of somebody knocking, followed immediately by a long, wailing cry.

      I raised myself on my elbow, and listened intently, but there was no repetition of the sound, and, concluding it must be "cats," or perhaps a fox in distress, I lay down again, and composed myself to the sleep which needed so little wooing.

      The next day was wet, and out-of-door amusements being impossible, Mrs. Edwards proposed that we should explore the old house, as some parts of it were rather curious, and evidently very ancient.

      It was a picturesque, yet imposing structure, with thick stone walls and mullioned windows.

      The hall was very handsome. On one side, about five feet from the ground, was a large window, the only one in the hall; to the right as you entered was the drawing-room and a small library, but these were evidently modern additions, and were not in keeping with the house.

      The hall went up to the roof, and was arched across with black oak rafters.

      A large fireplace faced the window, and opposite the drawing-room ran the open corridors up-stairs. The dining-room opened out of the hall on the same side.

      The corridor was guarded by an oak balustrade, from whence you looked down into the hall, and it was only about nine feet from the level of the hall floor.

      As here the house was only of two storeys high, there were but three rooms opening out of the corridor — one beside mine on the right hand, and one on the left, near the staircase that led to the other side of the house.

      The corridor ended beyond my room in a large embrasured window with an old-fashioned settle at either side of it. The embrasure was so large that, had it been partitioned off by a curtain, it would have made a cozy little sitting-room. There was a great deal of curiously carved oak, and some of the beds were very handsome.

      We explored the whole house, and I was struck with the small accommodation it contained, in proportion to its size. Seen from the outside it looked quite a large mansion, but so much room was taken up by the thick walls, the numberless staircases and narrow passages, that the bedrooms were few in number, and mostly small.

      My room was by far the largest in the house, and I felt very grateful to have been treated as the favoured guest.

      At the very top of the house was a large chapel, and in answer to my expressions of surprise at this, Mrs. Edwards told me that the reason for its being up-stairs was on account of the wide view commanded on all sides from its windows.

      At the time of the Reformation, Cottenham Court belonged to some rich Catholics, and as the persecution of the Catholics was at its height, and private families were forbidden the ministrations of priests in their own dwellings, the old proprietor had built this chapel — which might have been an observatory from the number of its windows — and he had also added a private and secret passage that led down to the cellars, and thence underground to a little round tower (some three miles away from the house) on the top of the hill.

      Whilst Mass was being celebrated a strict look-out was kept, and in case of any danger the priest would have quite sufficient time to make his exit by the narrow passage, the chapel would be restored to its everyday condition of spare or lumber-room, and the participators of the Mass dispersed to their usual avocations before the thundering knock at the gate announced the arrival of the would-be inquisitors.

      The entrance to the secret passage had been bricked up, and no one seemed to know much about it, neither could any trace of an exit be found in the cellars or elsewhere, but a very old man — the lodge-keeper — had told Mrs. Edwards that, as a lad, he remembered the passages being closed, as they caused the family much disturbance.

      I was always rather curious about these old-world mysteries, and lingered in the chapel after the others had left, tapping the walls, and trying if I could discover the secret passage.

      My search, however, proving unsuccessful, I rested my arm on one of the window-sills, and stood looking out over the vast extent of country it commanded.

      Gazing thus I fell into a reverie, from which I awoke with a start, to find the sun had set, and that it was getting dark and very cold.

      As I turned to the door a something, I could not see what, flitted across the left-hand window, and as I peered into the darkness I saw an object come from the far side of the chapel (it brushed so close past me that I felt its nearness), and disappear into the wall at the lower part of the chapel, not two yards from where I stood.

      I could not describe it, I could not distinguish what it was.

      It was a something, and that was all; but to this day I cannot account for the frenzy, the passion of fear and terror that seemed to take possession of me.

      I had never supposed myself to be a coward.

      I had been in danger of my life both by land and sea on more than one occasion, and though no hero, I had always comported myself as a man, but now I seemed to lose all self-control, and turning round, I simply fled down-stairs as if pursued by all the witches who so scared poor Tam O'Shanter, nor was it until I had reached my room that I had time to think, and to feel heartily ashamed of myself; but I must confess that I was truly glad to exchange the darkness of that gruesome chapel for the cheerful tea-party I discovered in the library, and to try, in the lively tattle and merry laughter, to drown the unpleasant recollections of the past hour up-stairs.

      And now I have arrived at the event which is the real subject of my story — an event which I cannot recall, though it is now some years since it occurred, without a feeling of perplexity and horror.

      Remember, dear reader, that I am not going to tell you of an apparition which appeared only to me; I should expect, and quite justly, to be laughed at as a timorous and imaginative sightseer.

      What I am going to relate was visible at the same time to four men besides myself, and it took place in this wise:—

      The ladies had gone up-stairs to their rooms later than usual. We had played billiards most of the day, and no one seemed inclined to begin again; so, instead of (as usual) adjourning to the billiard-room, we agreed to remain in the hall, and smoke our cigars there.

      We were sitting in a group forming a half-circle round the fire, a table well covered with brandy, whiskey, soda-water, lemon-squash and other preparations for the thirsty soul was placed near us.

      Major Kindely and I were engaged in an animated discussion on tiger-shooting in India, whilst the others smoked their cigars, and were lazily listening to our arguments.

      Suddenly I felt a cold blast of air sweep over me, and before I had time to look round (thinking the window or door must have been opened) Kindely exclaimed, "Edwards, how cold it is! I say, Edwards, is that window open?"

      Edwards, who was sitting facing the drawing-room end of the hall, turned round and looked towards the gallery.

      As he did so an exclamation of horror burst from his lips, and he continued to stare up at the gallery with a look of terror depicted on his face. We all followed the direction of his eyes, and a fearful sight met our gaze.

      Standing in the centre of the gallery, but not close to the balustrade, was the figure of a man dressed in a loose brown riding-coat of the last century; his right arm was raised as if in menace, but it was his face, his awful face that held our horrified gaze!

      It was that of a corpse in the last stage of decomposition; the blue, livid flesh seemed to be dropping off his bones; the thin lips, drawn into a grin, showed the white teeth in a ghastly line; only the eyes were alive, they shone with an unnatural brightness in the dead face, and imparted to it an expression of despairing hatred, dreadful to see; long curling red hair fell to his shoulders.

      For the space of half a minute we all sat petrified, staring at this hideous apparition, which, never stirring, kept its gaze fixed beyond us, looking into the distance.

      At that instant a loud knocking sounded overhead.

      With a common impulse Edwards and I sprang to our feet; I seized a lighted candle, and we made for the staircase.

      As we reached the corridor we could see the form gliding slowly down the passage; it stopped opposite to my room and then vanished.

      As we reached my door, it was in the act of slowly closing.

      Pushing it violently open, we entered, and gazed around.

      Nothing was to be seen, but the horrid smell we had perceived before pervaded the whole place, but this time so powerfully that, unable to breathe it, we stepped back into the passage.

      Here we found the rest of the party, who, on seeing the figure move away, had hastened up-stairs after us.

      The whole affair had not taken more than two minutes, from the time we felt the cold blast of air to now, and yet what a state of excitement had those minutes thrown us into!

      In answer to my inquiries Major Beach, who seemed even more impressed by the horrid vision than the rest of us, declared that the figure had turned its face from them when we flew to the staircase.

      It seemed to glide on as if drawn away, so slowly that they scarcely saw it moving until it was out of sight.

      What we saw was the back of the figure moving with long strides and quickly.

      It was most incomprehensible, and of course our first idea was that it must have been a hoax.

      As the horrid charnel-house smell in my room still remained, I re-entered, and threw the window wide open, whilst Edwards and two of the others hurried up-stairs to see if the ladies had been disturbed, or could throw any light on the subject, and also to make sure that they had had nothing to do in creating our alarm.

      Cohen and I searched most carefully all over my room; we pulled up the carpets, sounded the panels, tested the mantelpiece, looked under and behind the bed, in the large wardrobe — everywhere, in fact that it could be possible for a person to hide himself, but quite in vain.

      As we were at last pausing to consider what was our next best move a tap at the door startled us, and, turning round, we saw a figure in a blue fur-trimmed dressing-gown, with long golden hair and a piteously frightened face standing just within.

      "Oh, Mr. Gaunna," it said, "I am so frightened! What is it that you have all seen? I cannot stay in that dreadful room alone. Will you ask Mrs. Edwards to come down to me?" And evidently thoroughly terrified, Miss O'Brien burst into tears.

      As we hardly knew what to say to comfort the alarmed damsel, it was a great relief to hear the voices of Mrs. Edwards and her sister, who had hurried down to try and assist in the explanation of the mystery.

      Of course, Miss O'Brien flew to them at once, and then it transpired that I was not the only one who had been disturbed by extraordinary sounds.

      Poor Nellie had been kept awake also by the loud knocking, and disturbed by the wailing cry; but, afraid of being laughed at, she had kept her terrors to herself. But this night, whilst lying awake, she had felt certain that some one was in the room, standing close by her.

      When she could summon courage to look round she saw nothing, but at the same instant she heard our steps, and her nose was assailed by a pungent and horrible smell.

      As she was really very frightened, it was decided that she should sleep with Miss Cohen, and meanwhile the ladies made a careful examination of the room.

      A door communicated between it and mine, as hers was really the dressing-room; but it was carefully locked, and the key was in Mrs. Edwards's possession.

      The servants, who had been roused from their evidently deep slumber, had now assembled in very quaint costumes.

      Edwards had organized a most complete search, in case anyone had concealed himself in the house. But all was in vain, and two hours later we had assembled once more in the hall, as much in the dark as ever.

      I proposed that whilst the occurrence was still fresh in our minds, we should each write down our own particular impressions of it, and then compare notes.

      Not being particularly inclined to go to bed, Kindely and I decided that we would sit up in the hall till morning, in case any fresh phantoms should appear.

      We sat over the fire talking and smoking, ever and anon glancing up at the corridor, but nothing came to disturb us, and as the clock struck four, feeling chilly and very tired, we at last followed the example of the rest, and sought our couches.

      It is needless to say that our chief, indeed our only, topic of conversation next morning related to the events of the previous night, and many were the explanations offered and the plans laid to discover the perpetrator of the hoax, for so we all agreed to designate it, although I believe that in our own minds we regarded it in a different light, though our reason and common sense forbade the actual belief that what we had seen was a visitant from the other world.

      Had I been alone when I saw the apparition, I should certainly have put it down to a disordered imagination; but with the evidence of four corroborative witnesses that was impossible.

      Major Beach was very anxious to keep guard with a loaded pistol, and, should the figure again appear, to first warn and then fire at it.

      But Edwards would not allow of this, fearing some accident; at the same time, he let it be reported in the house that firearms would be resorted to in case of any recurrence of the annoying affair.

      We also compared notes, and in all respects but one they agreed in their description.

      Major Beach insisted that before the figure glided away it shook its clenched fist threateningly, and a grim smile distorted its horrid features. No one else, however, had observed this, so it was put down to the effects of an overheated imagination.

      What distressed us all was the determination, put into immediate execution, in spite of entreaties, objections, and even ridicule, of Miss O'Brien to leave Cottenal Court.

      She was very sorry, she said, and had been very happy before these horrid sights and sounds had changed everything; but stay she could not, she was simply afraid to do so, and as it really would have been cruel to detain her, at last, though with much reluctance, Mrs. Edwards promised to send her down to the station in time to catch the mid-day train to London.

      Her departure cast a considerable gloom over us all; she had been so bright and cheery, and our dinner-party that night was far less merry than usual.

      We spent the greater part of the evening in the billiard-room, and as bed-time drew near some of us did not feel particularly anxious to sit up to watch for the apparition.

      Major Beach and Mr. Cohen, however, announced their intention of doing so. The rest of us went up to our rooms a little before twelve o'clock.

      I was enjoying my first sleep, when it was roughly broken by the door being thrown violently open, and in rushed Beach and Cohen in a state of great excitement. They seemed thoroughly scared, and it was some time before I could get them to explain what had happened. Their story ran thus:—

      After sitting talking and smoking by the fire for over an hour they must have fallen asleep, and when they awoke with a start and a mutual impulse, the lamp had burnt low, and the fire was nearly out.

      They described the noise that had awakened them to be like the fall of some heavy, solid body close to them. At the same time they heard my room door open with a bang, and they could distinguish a shapeless black mass moving slowly along the corridor.

      The only description they could give of the mass was, that it resembled a large bundle, but had three bright little lights on or over it.

      It moved noiselessly out of their sight. As they still sat staring up into the corridor, wondering what next would appear, the curious, thrilling, despairing cry I had heard on the first night of my arrival began overhead, and as it died away the door leading into the drawing-room began slowly to open.

      Without waiting to see what new surprise was in store for them, they both took to their heels and fled, and as my room was the nearest haven, they made for it. Hence the unwelcome interruption to my repose.

      Remembering my escapade in the chapel, I felt I could not reproach them with pusillanimity. At the same time I regretted that they had not waited or gone into the drawing-room to see what had caused the door to open.

      As to the "rolling mass," as they allowed that the hall was nearly in darkness, and they had only awakened the instant before it appeared, I thought the matter allowed of a simple explanation, but this they indignantly rejected, they had "seen it as plainly as they now saw me."

      Having got into my dressing-gown, I now descended with them into the hall; but on reaching the drawing-room door we found it not only closed but locked, the key being in the side of the hall.

      This certainly complicated matters, and as they both swore with great vehemence to having seen the door wide open, it was impossible to disbelieve them.

      However, after a close search in hall and drawing-room, and having satisfied ourselves that when locked the door could not open by itself, we again had to acknowledge ourselves as much in the dark as ever.

      Not wishing to weary my readers by a prolonged account of my stay at Cottenal Court, I will merely relate the last (as far as I was concerned) appearance of the phenomenon.

      We had sat up several nights in succession, and many were the cleverly-contrived schemes to discover the mystery; but, as nothing unusual had been seen or heard, we began rather to try to forget it, feeling a little ashamed of the disturbance it had caused amongst us.

      It was on a Sunday evening, as we were quietly smoking our cigars in the hall; the conversation had turned upon hunting, when Major Beach, who had risen to help himself from the tray that stood on the small table near, startled us by exclaiming in a loud voice, "Who are you? What do you want here? If you do not speak I shall fire!"

      We all turned towards the gallery, and there, standing full in view, rather bending over the balustrade, was the tall figure of a nun, dressed from head to foot in black, unrelieved except by a white band across the forehead, and an ivory crucifix hanging by her side.

      She was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked features, and large, mild, expressionless eyes that seemed to look beyond and over us. She never moved, nor seemed to hear the Major's harangue; and when he seized his unloaded pistol and pointed it full at her, not an eyelid trembled.

      As we all sat in wonder and amazement staring at the silent figure, as quickly as it appeared, so it vanished.

      No movement betrayed that it was going; the figure seemed to melt away, and was gone before any of us had recovered sufficiently to speak or move.

      A cold blast of air swept through the hall, and this time, passing hastily along the corridor, its arm raised and the same awful expression on its livid, decomposed face, appeared the figure of the man in the brown riding-coat, and hastily following him, with hands raised as if in abject supplication, was the form of another nun with a blood-stained band on her forehead, and uttering as she went the wailing, agonizing cry we had all heard before, and which seemed by its horror and intensity to curdle our blood as we heard it.

      Edwards sprang to his feet, and was up the stairs in an instant, but when he gained the corridor both figures had vanished through my room door.

      Kindely and I followed him quickly, and we all rushed into my room.

      The same hateful smell was plainly to be perceived, but nothing, not the faintest indication of the presence of anyone, could we find.

      I pass over the rest, as it would only be wearisome repetition — the arousing of the household, the fruitless search, the vain wonder; but on one thing I was quite determined, and that was, that never again would I sleep in that room, for I could not overcome the distaste I experienced to doing so.

      That night I spent in the hall, and the next morning I gladly welcomed a despatch that recalled me to town; and Edwards, who was much annoyed and distressed by the extraordinary occurrence I have tried to relate, urged me if I could to return, as he was determined to leave no means untried by which he might get some light thrown on the affair.

      I promised him I would if possible, and the party broke up.

      There were many expressions of hearty regret at the unsatisfactory ending to our pleasant visit, but I quite believe that in our hearts no one really cared to go through a repetition of our last week's annoyance.

      To feel oneself thoroughly and inexplicably under the dominion of a supernatural terror, that defies all one's reason and common-sense, is not a pleasant experience for any man; and though, after the spectre had vanished, we recovered our self-control, yet while that horrid face glared above us the blood froze in our veins, and a panic of positive terror held us captive.

      I had fully intended to return to assist Edwards in his researches, but about a week after my leaving Cottenal Court I got a letter from him, briefly telling me they had altered their plans and were leaving Cottenal Court at once. In fact, he added that before his letter could reach me they would be on their way to town.

      He added that it was not a subject he cared to refer to again, but that in fact they would not remain any longer in that horrid house.

      "Call it fancy, imagination, my dear fellow, or what you will; I have seen sights and heard sounds that are not only inexplicable but terrible. My wife's health is not very good, and I do not care to risk the chance of her being exposed to some horrible shock; so whether the agent be natural or supernatural matters not. The facts remain, and I have forfeited the remainder of my lease, and we shall be away at once."

      For myself, I never wish to witness any more supernatural horrors.

      Subsequently I made some inquiries in the neighbourhood, but was informed that Cottenal Court was shut up after the departure of mine host, and has remained so ever since.

      Thus ends my story, and unsatisfactorily, I have always felt; but I cannot pretend to give you any explanation, as I do not believe there is any.

      A few more words on the subject, and I have done. I have heard since that ever since Cottenal Court had passed out of the hands of its old possessors it had acquired a bad reputation; no purchaser having kept it for long, and some misfortune seemed to follow all those who invested in it.

      The present owner had let it, but his two previous tenants had given it up before the expiration of their lease; and it was reported in the county that no one could rest at night in certain parts of the house, on account of the noise of loud knocking so constantly heard.

      This, with a sew vague hints, was all the information I could glean, so I have given up the matter in despair; but should any of my readers, after going through the account as I have here stated it, be able to throw any light upon it, I shall not consider that my story of "The Ghosts of Cottenal Court" has been written in vain.

E. M.     

(THE END)