‘Yes?’ said Mina.
‘This one should interest you.’ Nellie handed it to Mina, who read the title, her excitement growing with every word.
The Authentic Narrative of the Astonishing and Unaccountable Events at Hollow House, Ditchling Hollow, in the County of Sussex, in the month of March 1851, as observed by a Reverend Gentleman.
Mina examined the end pages without learning more. ‘The author is not named and it has been privately printed, but given the year, I suspect Reverend Tolley to be the author.’ She could not resist starting to read the pamphlet. ‘Oh, this is more than just interesting. It is an account of a previous haunting of Hollow House. And there is an explanation of why the Lassiters left so abruptly.’
It was too much of a risk for Mina to spend time copying the contents of the pamphlet, but an unfamiliar name that appeared in its pages sent her on a second fruitless foray into the parish records, after which she wrapped and tied the little package of documents and tucked it into her reticule. It looked as though the package had not been disturbed in a long time and, since Reverend Ashbrook was a recent incumbent, it was doubtful that he had ever opened it. With care, she ought to be able to study the papers at her leisure, wrap them so they did not look as if they had been disturbed, and return them before his next visit.
With the exception of the papers the contents of the chest were replaced as they had been found, the lid carefully lowered, the padlock restored and locked. The chair was once again placed before the desk. After listening at the door, Nellie opened it a tiny way, peering out to ensure that they would not be seen emerging from the vestry. To their relief, the church was empty. The two malefactors, one of them far more nervous than the other, were thus able to make their escape undetected.
‘If anyone should ask,’ said Mina, ‘we simply said our prayers.’
Their return to the house was observed only by Mrs Malling, to whom Mina explained that she and Nellie had taken a turn about the terrace. Mrs Malling seemed surprised, but after observing that they were both looking chilled, insisted on providing hot coffee as a warming restorative.
Thus refreshed, Mina took the purloined papers to her room for detailed study. The village map was, as Nellie had commented, badly faded, and there was some writing on it, including what appeared to be a date, all of which was illegible. From her slight knowledge of the village and the estate, Mina was able to make out the shape of fields with some markings which she guessed were the names of the tenants, the main street, a farmhouse, the church and a manor house, which, from its shape, was almost certainly the one that had existed before the Wigmores had built Hollow House. Apart from the pamphlet the remaining documents were surveys of the condition of the church roof made during the time of Reverend Tolley, the cost of the Redwoodes’ plaque which dated from 1794, and some accounts of collections for the parish poor.
She saved the most interesting part for last and, tucking her little wedge-shaped cushion more firmly under her hip, settled comfortably to read the Reverend Gentleman’s account of the remarkable transactions at Hollow House.
In this, my faithful account of the haunting of Hollow House and the unfortunate Lassiter family I hope I will not be accused of being too fanciful or too trusting. My enquiries have been most thorough and I have made good use of both my senses and my experience of human nature. A lifetime spent in the service of the church has, I believe, well fitted me to understand both the strengths and weaknesses of the human condition. All the circumstances I place before the reader are therefore those that I have either seen with my own eyes or have been divulged to me by reliable persons, whose veracity I have no reason to doubt. My fervent faith in the Almighty and the promised hereafter have, as always, shored me up at times of great anxiety.
There came to Ditchling Hollow, towards the end of the year 1849, a most excellent family who had previously dwelled in the county of Kent. The family consisted of Mr Edward Lassiter, who was in the business of breeding and training racehorses and had many successes to his name. He was then thirty-two years of age and of the most agreeable disposition. His wife, to whom he had been married above four years, was the former Sophia Peele, whose late father, an honest and industrious corn chandler, had left her with a not inconsiderable marriage portion. Mrs Lassiter was a gentle, kind, devout lady and much skilled in the art of watercolour painting. I have never seen, either before or since, a married couple so devoted as the Lassiters.
The Lassiters had one child, a son called George, although he was affectionately known as Georgie by the family, and he was then just three years of age. He was a lively, active and cheerful child, and his parents doted on him. The other residents of the house were a cook/housekeeper, Mr Lassiter’s servant, a general maid and a ladies’ maid, all of whom had come with the Lassiters from Kent. On their arrival in Ditchling Hollow, the Lassiters engaged a nursemaid to take charge of the child, their previous one having decided to remain in Kent where she was to marry. This nursemaid was Abigail Falcon, of Burgess Hill, who was then eighteen years of age. All persons resident in the house were sober and respectable, and despite the strangeness of the stories they had to tell, I have every confidence in the truth of their observations for reasons that will become clear.
The family and servants were regular attendees at the church and the Lassiters gave generously to charity. Mr Lassiter also employed a great number of men in the construction of a new wing to Hollow House, the object being to provide stabling for horses and accommodation for the riders and grooms.
The Lassiters had not been here four months when Mr Lassiter came to me in a very troubled state. He said that there had been disturbances in the house, which he was unable to explain and his wife, who was in that happy but delicate state of health particular to young married ladies, was becoming very frightened by it and as a result he was extremely anxious for her safety. It had occurred to him that a man of the cloth might be the best person to advise him.
Naturally, I was intrigued by this information and humbly gratified by the confidence reposed in me. I stated at once that I would do everything in my power to assist him.
He told me that, one afternoon when Abigail was with little Georgie in the parlour, several ornaments were sent crashing to the floor, some of which were broken beyond repair. When Mrs Lassiter heard the commotion, she went to enquire what had happened. Georgie at once said that he was not responsible for the breakages and Mrs Lassiter had no reason to disbelieve him. Suspicion naturally fell on the only other individual present, Abigail, who it was thought had carelessly knocked them to the floor. Abigail, however, protested that she had not touched any of the ornaments and claimed that they must have fallen down by themselves.
Mrs Lassiter decided not to press matters further, hoping that such an incident would not happen again. The very next day, however, Abigail came running to Mrs Lassiter saying that some dishes in the kitchen had fallen from the shelf while her back was turned. Mrs Lassiter went to look and saw broken plates lying on the kitchen floor. Before she could say a word, a whole row of dishes tumbled from the shelf and broke. Neither Mrs Lassiter nor Abigail were near to the shelf at the time. No other person was in the room. As they contemplated this alarming event there was a loud noise from the scullery. They ran in and discovered that some china basins had fallen to the floor. From that moment on it appeared that nothing in the house was safe. Jars of preserves, ornaments, lamps, candlesticks and even a clock would jump to the floor or throw themselves against the wall while no person was within reach of them.
As one might imagine, I received this account, told to me in great sincerity, with a certain degree of scepticism. I was careful not to dismiss it out of hand, however, as my parishioner was undoubtedly very concerned. Mr Lassiter, to some extent, saw through my doubts and begged me to go to his house and see for myself, which naturally I did. He confided his suspicions that there was a disturbed spirit haunting Hollow House, which would not let his family alone and asked me if I knew
of any unhappy person who had expired there.
I have conducted services in the church of St Mond Ditchling Hollow for many years and so I cast my mind back in the hope of providing Mr Lassiter with an answer. The Lassiters had purchased the house from a family by the name of Wigmore, who had originally built it about 1795 on the site of an old and much decayed Tudor mansion. At the time I knew old Mr Wigmore, he was a very unhappy gentleman. His wife was an invalid who had been sent to Switzerland for her health but unfortunately this measure had not been effective and she had died there. His three daughters had all married and no longer resided in Sussex. He had begun to wander in his mind and repeatedly expressed the idea that a maidservant who had lived in his house many years ago had suffered ill-treatment at the hands of his butler, a circumstance which he had not done enough to prevent, but what had become of her no one could recall, least of all Mr Wigmore. At length, one of his daughters, concerned for the old gentleman, had him removed and placed in the care of a nurse.
I examined the church records very carefully and they show no burials in the churchyard of St Mond of anyone who had once lived in Hollow House.
I duly paid a visit to the house and carefully interviewed all those who had witnessed unusual incidents. It transpired that all the inhabitants had, on occasion, heard items tumbling to the floor, either in an adjoining room where no one was present, or in the same room when no one was near enough to move them. Sometimes they had not actually seen the things fall, but there had been incidents when they had actually seen plates or jars fly across the room while not being touched by any human hand. Everyone seemed very sincere and all were willing to attest on the Bible to the truth of their accounts.
I am not a believer in spirit visitations, which I have always suspected are a result of overheated imagination, and decided to seek a simpler explanation. I considered the important fact that Mr Lassiter was having the new wing constructed and wondered if this could be causing the disturbances. I therefore suggested that Mr Lassiter call upon the services of a reliable builder of Burgess Hill, who paid him a visit and examined the property and expressed his belief that the construction of the new wing had unsettled the foundations and it was for this reason that objects slid off shelves onto the floor.
Mr Lassiter was most relieved at this explanation and was quick to inform his wife that the solution to the mystery had been found, and it only wanted some improvements to the foundations to be made for the incidents to cease. This work was duly carried out by the aforementioned builder, at some considerable expense, and Mr Lassiter invited me to view the completed new wing of the house.
As we sat down before partaking of dinner it was suggested that we take a glass of sherry, but as the butler went to fetch the bottle the tray on which it and the glasses sat flew off the side table and all the glassware was dashed to pieces. He proceeded to sweep up the fragments, but as he did so the whole room was thrown into a state of consternation by a shower of stones, which appeared to have descended from the ceiling. These incidents I saw with my own eyes. Mrs Lassiter at once began to weep and ran from the room in a state of great distress.
Mr Lassiter went to comfort her and it will not be hard to imagine that the evening did not end happily. It was decided that Mrs Lassiter, together with little Georgie and the nursemaid, should leave Hollow House at once and pay a visit to her sister, where she would be more comfortable. This was done and the disturbances in the house ceased. However, only a week later, Mrs Lassiter, little Georgie and the nursemaid all returned.
Mr Lassiter came to me again. He looked like a desperate man, so much so that I was afraid for his health and possibly even his sanity. He informed me that the distressing incidents had continued at the house of Mrs Lassiter’s sister, who had been greatly upset, this being the reason for the party’s early return. It had been observed, however, that the events only occurred when Abigail Falcon was nearby, either in the same room or the next one. He further told me that she of all the people in the house was unafraid of the events and had even been heard to comment quite unconcernedly that it was a commonplace thing to happen. He suspected that the girl was the focus of a discontented spirit and he and his wife had begun to feel afraid of her. He asked me to perform a ceremony of exorcism on her, which I naturally refused to do, it being a custom of the dark ages of superstition. My advice was to dismiss the girl, but he went away shaking his head in a most peculiar fashion, saying that he felt unable to do so. That was the last time I saw him.
Only two weeks later, I learned that the Lassiters had decided to vacate the house. I was told that the servants who had come with them from Kent went with them, but Abigail Falcon did not and I never heard what had become of her afterwards.
Thus ends my narrative, in which I have endeavoured to describe only the simple facts, neither exaggerated nor diminished, in the hope that one day the truth of the matter will be made apparent.
A Reverend Gentleman. Ditchling Hollow, 1852.
Mina would have liked to show the pamphlet to Dr Hamid, but that might have led to awkward questions as to where she had obtained it. If, as was very probable, he should mention it to Mr Honeyacre on the natural assumption that it came from his host’s library the situation could become highly embarrassing. A life of crime, she reflected, was not without its complications. She rather hoped that her current possession of the pamphlet would remain a secret forever and it would soon be safely back in its proper home.
The only person she could share it with was Nellie, who was eager to read it. ‘How similar to the events reported here,’ she observed, ‘including the stones. But from the appearance of the packet I doubt it has been opened since the pamphlet was printed.’
‘I agree,’ said Mina, ‘but the coincidence is very strange.’
‘I wonder what became of Abigail Falcon?’
‘I did go back to the parish records to look, but I didn’t see anyone there with that surname.’
‘So, does that mean that since the house was built no resident has died here?’ asked Nellie.
‘Not necessarily,’ said Mina. ‘The church books record burials, not deaths. No one who was resident in the house has been buried in the graveyard of St Mond. If someone died here or in the village and was buried elsewhere there would be no entry in the books.’
She wrapped the papers and secreted them in a drawer of the night table. Abigail Falcon, if still alive, would be about forty. Mina wished she could interview her, but for the time being she would have to remain a mystery.
Chapter Eleven
The occupants of Hollow House gathered for a substantial luncheon of ham, chicken rissoles and potato croquettes, followed by fig tart. Mr Hope ate heartily, attacking his food like a lion that had just made a kill and was excited by the aroma and taste of fresh blood. If he at all repented the disturbance he had caused the previous night it was not apparent from his manner. Mr Beckler, the only other person at table with any relish for food, tore at his meat with large sharp teeth as a hyaena might. Mina hoped that Mr Beckler was a single man, otherwise she would have to sympathise with a wife who was obliged daily to face him across the cruets. Even Dr Hamid’s usually robust appetite was subdued, while Kitty ate sparingly and avoided looking at anyone.
‘Mr Honeyacre,’ said Mr Hope in a burst of enthusiasm, ‘I really must congratulate you on your table. I can assure you that there are lords and ladies who do not dine as well.’
Mr Honeyacre murmured his appreciation of the compliment, but his manner towards Mr Hope was more coolly polite and less admiring than before.
If Mr Hope noticed any change in his host he did not reveal it. ‘You have been more than generous with your time and hospitality and, of course, your agreement to hold a séance here. The results have been quite extraordinary and will undoubtedly advance the knowledge of mankind. I predict that in years to come the events of last night will be spoken of with reverence. Our séance will be talked about all over the world, as the one that ushered in a
new understanding of psychic matters. And now I can inform you that Mr Beckler and I, after an exhaustive examination of the house, have found several powerful concentrations of psychic energy. There is an especially strong one in this very room! With that in mind I do not think we should lose the opportunity of repeating the experiment as soon as possible.’
Mr Beckler nodded. ‘If the carriage should arrive with my camera that would be all the better,’ he said. ‘The house has many things in it which are deserving of a photograph.’ He smiled at Mina. She did not smile back.
Mr Honeyacre, moving slowly and deliberately, put down his knife and fork, which were barely used, dabbed his lips with a napkin and coughed gently. ‘Lord Hope,’ he said in a carefully even tone, ‘am I to understand that, despite the distress caused to my wife by the séance we held last night, you actually intend to hold another?’
Mr Hope paused, surprised by this unexpected hint of dissent. ‘It is essential that we do. Of course,’ he added reluctantly, ‘we could wait until Mrs Honeyacre has recovered from her upset. But I do not think that will take long. A few hours perhaps? But we must proceed sooner rather than later or the energy might dissipate.’
Under his calm exterior, Mr Honeyacre was simmering with emotion. He chewed his lips while deciding how to reply. Mina, too, was appalled by Mr Hope’s manners, since it was hardly his place to discuss the health of his host’s wife in front of them both.
Kitty rose from the table in some agitation and Nellie at once went to her side and linked arms with her. ‘Let us go and sit together in the parlour,’ she said. ‘If the weather improves we might take a walk on the terrace with Little Scrap.’
The Ghost of Hollow House (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 4) Page 17
