by John Lang (uncredited)
Originally published in Household Words (Bradbury & Evans) vol.16 #384 (01 Aug 1857).
Some twenty years ago, a rich West India merchant, a Mr. Walderburn, purchased an estate in the county of Kent, and went thither to reside with his wife and family; such family consisting of two sons and two daughters, all of whom were grown up.
The house on the estate was a fine old mansion in the Elizabethan style of architecture, and the grounds by which it was surrounded were laid out with great care and in excellent taste. The property had belonged originally to a baronet who had distinguished himself in political life. So perfect a property was never purchased for so small a sum. The house and grounds—known as Carlville—together with one hundred acres of arable land, were knocked down by the illustrious George Robins for nine thousand, two hundred, and fifty pounds.
The estate had been in the possession of its late owner's family for upwards of two hundred years. In that house had been born several eminent military men, a naval hero, a very distinguished lawyer, a statesman of no ordinary repute, and a lady celebrated for her remarkable beauty and her wit.
It was in the autumn that Mr. Walderburn took possession of Carlville, and a number of guests were invited to inaugurate the event. The elder son of Mr. Walderburn was in the army, and brought with him several officers of his regiment. The younger son was at the university of Oxford, and was accompanied to his father's new home by three intimate college friends. The Misses Walderburn had also their especial favourites; and they, too, journeyed to Carlville. A merrier party it would be difficult to imagine.
On the evening of the third day, when the ladies had just risen from the dinner-table and retired to the drawing-room, the sound of carriage wheels, and presently a loud rapping at the door, were distinctly heard. As no visitor was expected, this startled the host; who, finding that no one had been announced, was tempted to inquire of the footman:
"Who was that?"
"No one, sir," was the reply.
"Did you hear a rap at the door?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you open the door?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you not see any one?"
"No one, sir."
"Very strange!" ejaculated Mr. Walderburn, passing round the bottles which were standing before him.
In another five minutes there was heard, for the second time, a sound of carriage wheels, followed by a vigorous rapping at the door, which was opened. But the footman saw no one, and conveyed this information to his master without waiting to be questioned.
Mr. Walderburn, his sons, and his guests, were at a loss to comprehend the matter. There were three young gentlemen living at Glenpark (an estate near Carlville) who were just then under a cloud, in consequence of having committed sundry irregularities during the absence of their mother and sisters on the continent. These young gentlemen (the eldest was four and twenty, and the youngest just of age) were fond of practical joking; and to their account this rapping at the door was laid. While the stupidity of such conduct was being remarked upon, there came, for the third time, the sound of carriage wheels, followed by a very loud rapping. On this occasion, Mr. Walderburn sprang up and went out, determined to catch and severely punish these senseless intruders. The younger son, armed with a stick, ran round by the back way to cut off the retreat of the vehicle, while the elder son opened the hall door. It was a brilliant moonlight night, but no carriage nor any person was to be seen.
Mr. Walderburn's sons stood in front of the mansion, discoursing on the oddness of the recent proceeding. That a human hand had rapped at the door there was no sort of doubt in their minds, and that the sound they had heard previously to the rapping was the sound of carriage wheels and the tramp of horses, they were equally certain. In order to be prepared for the next visit, they crouched down and secreted themselves behind a large shrub. They had not been in this position for more than five minutes when a sound of wheels and of horses' hoofs induced them to look around them earnestly and intently. They saw nothing; but they heard a carriage pulled up at the door, the steps let down, then the rapping at the door, the rustling of silk dresses, the steps put up again, and the moving away of the carriage towards the stables.
None of the Walderburn family were timid people, or believers in ghosts. The young men, therefore, without scruple, went into the drawing-room, where all the inmates of the house were now assembled, and made known what had occurred. As is usually the case on such occasions, their statement was received with laughter and incredulity.
And now there came another rapping at the door, and the big footman, who had heard the young masters' report in the drawing-room, trembled so violently, that the cups and saucers on the tray which he was handing round began to reel, dance, and stagger.
"Listen!" said the elder son of Mr. Walderburn.
All listened, and distinctly heard the sound of carriage wheels and of horses' hoofs.
There was a huge portico before the front door of the mansion, and on the top thereof a balcony. Thence the eye could command the sight of any vehicle coming or going out of either of the great gates. Thither the whole party repaired to look for the ghosts.
It was not long before the noises already described were again heard, but nothing could be seen. Everyone now set to work to divine the cause of these supernatural sounds. One said that it was the wind through the trees; another, that there must be a drain under the premises inhabited by rats; a third suggested distant thunder, and so on. But then there was the rapping at the door by invisible hands. And for this, everybody was equally at a loss to account.
This rapping and arrival of invisible carriages was continued till about half-past ten. It then ceased, and gave way to sounds more supernatural still. There arose a sound of subdued music through the mansion. It was no delusion. Every one heard it—servants included—heard it distinctly, and could follow the old tunes to which our forefathers used to dance. And some, who listened most attentively, declared that they could hear the movement of feet in several of the rooms and upon the stairs.
Retiring to rest while these noises continued was out of the question, and the whole party remained up, speculating, surmising, and wondering. Towards daylight the sound of the music ceased, and then came the noise which always attends the breaking-up of a ball. Shutting of carriage doors, moving onward of horses, &c. The reader must understand, however, that throughout the whole of these extraordinary noises the sound of the human voice was never heard; and, as already stated, nothing whatever was seen.
Daylight put an end to any alarm that had crept amongst the members of the party at Carlville, and the majority went to rest.
The evil consequences of the past night's events were speedily manifested. The female servants, one and all, wished to leave the service. They would not on any terms, they said, remain in a house that was haunted. They insisted on going at once, being quite prepared to forfeit their wages, if that step should be taken. The maids of the lady visitors also declared that they would rather not remain another night; and this was an excellent reason for the lady visitors themselves, who were really frightened, to remove from Carlville. In a word, before the day had passed, Carlville was left to the members of the Walderburn family, and a few of the men-servants.
Night came, and all was as still as the grave. No sound of carriage, no noise of any sort or kind. The Walderburns, who were strong-minded people, began to reason on the matter, and came to the conclusion that the impressions of the past night were mere delusions, that the imagination of one person in the first instance had fired the imagination of the rest, and that then the idea had become a fixed idea with all. New female servants were engaged from a town ten miles distant, and the establishment of Carlville was once more perfect in every particular.
The gentlefolks in the vicinity now began to call upon the Walderburns, who were anxious to question them about the supernatural noises, which still stole over their minds; but somehow or other they felt ashamed to do so, especially as there had been no recurrence of these noises. Amongst others who called at Carlville was Mr. Estrelle, a very gentlemanlike and clever man of about thirty years of age. The Walderburn family were charmed with him, and the sons especially cultivated his acquaintance.
One day the conversation happening to turn upon the estate Carlville and its late proprietor, Mr. Estrelle spoke as follows:—
"Old Sir Hugh was something more than eccentric. He was at times insane. Conscious of being so, he retired from public life and came down here to live. He held aloof from all the families in the neighbourhood. I was the only person whose visits he received, and I frequently dined with him. He had always covers laid for twenty, even when he dined alone. The fact was, he used to say, that he never knew when his guests would, or would not come. Especially the ladies. I should mention that these guests to whom Sir Hugh attended, were shadows; imaginary guests to whom he would introduce you, with all the formality imaginable."
"Was Sir Hugh imbecile?"
"No," replied Mr. Estrelle. "On the contrary. He was an extremely able man to the last, and his language in conversation was of the most vivacious and polished character. Sir Hugh was the very opposite to a bore; even at one of his ghost dinner parties, or ghost balls, or ghost breakfasts, at all of which I have been and acted."
"How acted?"
"Sir Hugh would point out to me the lady whom I was to conduct to the table, and would appoint the place of every one at the board. Strange to say, every lady or gentleman guest, whose name he mentioned, was dead. That Sir Hugh, in his imagination, saw them, there could be no doubt. The servants, of course, humoured this odd fancy of their master's, and waited on his imaginary guests, as though they had been living flesh and blood. I, too, used to humour him, by addressing Lord George This, or Lady Mary That, across the table. Sometimes, Sir Hugh would sit at the top of the long table, and put me at the bottom, and at that distance, and in a tone appropriate to the distance, invite me, in my turn, to take wine with him. No gentleman ever did the honour of the table with more grace and bearing, while his flow of witty anecdote was unceasing and never stale or tedious. Curiously enough, he would frequently tell very amusing stories, which had for their burden the delusions of insane persons."
"But did you never hear the carriages come and go, and the music? " enquired Mrs. Walderburn.
"What carriages? what music?" said Mr. Estrelle.
"The carriages which brought the guests, and the music to which they danced."
"Never! I never saw nor heard anything of the kind, but attributed all that occurred to Sir Hugh's madness. It was the only point upon which he was mad."
Mr. Estrelle was astounded when he heard from the Walderburns the particulars of the noises which were heard on the first night of their occupancy of the mansion. It was agreed, however, that the story should not gain currency, insomuch as it would not only create a commotion in the neighbourhood, but lessen the value of the property, perhaps. It was further arranged, that, in the event of the shadowy vehicles again visiting the mansion, Mr. Estrelle should b« summoned.
Six weeks passed away and not a sound was heard, save sounds for which everyone could account; when, one night at half-past nine, there came that loud and vigorous rapping which bespeaks the arrival of some important personage. The Walderburn family, who where all in the drawing-room, involuntarily started. The lady of the house, very much agitated, rang the bell. The footman, pale and trembling, entered the room, and was requested to open the hall door. This he refused to do, unless accompanied by some one. Mr. Walderburn and his sons went with him. There was no one at the door; but the rustling of silk dresses was again heard and the other noises which have been already described. A groom was dispatched to Mr. Estrelle. He came and heard, as distinctly as every one else did, a repetition of what occurred on the first night, when the unseen ghosts looked in upon the Walderburn family.
People may not believe in, or be afraid of ghosts, nevertheless it is far from pleasant to inhabit a house where airy nothings take such liberties with the knocker, and whose visits defy all calculation. Mr. Walderburn therefore determined on leaving Carlville, and advertised the property to be let. He was too conscientious, however, to do so, without informing a tenant who proposed, of the cause why the family vacated so very desirable a residence.
Notwithstanding this great drawback, as it was called, the mansion was let to a Mr. Southdown: a gentleman who laughed to scorn the idea of a house being haunted, and who was so confident of the Walderburn family being under a delusion, that he took it on lease for three years. The Southdowns occupied it, however, for only four months. Of course, they offered to pay the rent, but live in it, they could not;—for on one occasion, when they had an evening party of their own friends, the ghosts thought proper to join it, and two-thirds of the ladies in the room fainted.
It now became notorious, throughout the county, that Carlville was haunted; and, from that time, the mansion was locked up and left entirely to shadows, and spiders. Three or four times it was put up to auction, but no one would make anything like a bid for it. An eminent builder was once sent down to inspect the house and report upon it. Mr. Walderburn junior accompanied him. The eminent builder at once discovered the cause of the noises. It was as "plain as a pike-staff," he said. "The portico attracted a strong current of air, which passed rapidly through it, and hence &c." The portico was pulled down. But the invisible ghosts came as usual. All the drains on the premises were then opened and examined under the supervision of the eminent builder. There was not a single rat or mouse or other animal to be found in them. Then the eminent builder said, "it must be the trees by which the mansion was surrounded," and those stately elms and venerable oaks, which had been planted in the reign of Henry the Eighth, were cut down and sold for timber. But the ghosts visited Carlville, nevertheless. The knocker was then removed; then the door and the windows, and the remaining articles of furniture carried away. To no purpose. The same noises were distinctly heard. The land was now sold separately, and the mansion, which Mr. Walderburn would not have pulled down, was suffered to go to ruin.
About three years ago I was in the neighbourhood of Carlville, the place of which I had so often heard the Walderburns speak. Curiosity prompted me to pay the place a visit. I rode over in the company of a friend, and on my way recounted to him the facts above narrated. To my surprise, I found the ruin peopled. Several poor families had taken up their abode within those walls. I asked them if they ever saw the
ghosts? They replied:—"No, but we sometimes hear 'em plain enough. Hows'ever they never meddle with us, nor us with them."
"And the music?" I enquired.
"Yes, and very pleasant it is on a winter's evening, or a summer's either," responded a dark-eyed young woman with a child in her arms.