Part 2 — BURLE FARM, NORTH DEVON THE HEADLESS DOG AND THE EVIL TREE

Technical form of apparitions: Elemental

Source of authenticity: First-hand evidence

Cause of hauntings: Unknown

Between my exit from the stage in 1900 up till quite recently I had the great, the very great misfortune to be a teacher in a small town in the north of England.

I say misfortune because I found the contrasts between exciting stageland and the monotonous schoolroom, between the generous and jovial theatrical fraternity and the mean and petty local parents, too decidedly pronounced to be other than excessively unpleasant.

I had small patience with the mediocre abilities of very mediocre children, and still less with the continual and unwarrantable interference of their ill-mannered and doting mothers. No lot in life could have been more thoroughly uncongenial than mine; indeed, it would have soon become unbearable had it not been for the constant influx of strangers whose presence in the town made an oasis in the desert.

It is to one of these visitors—Miss Medley—that I owe the following story.

“Some years ago,” she began, “I received an invitation to spend August with a very crochety old aunt of mine residing at Burle Farm, North Devon.

“There was nothing at all extraordinary in the appearance of the house; it belonged to a type common in all parts of England. It was a low, rambling building of yellow stone with a good, substantial, thatched roof and ample stabling. The rooms, sweet with the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, compared more than favourably with the stuffy dens in which I had been obliged to live in London; whilst the diamond-shaped window-panes and massive oak beams serving as supports to the ceilings, struck me as being quite delightfully quaint.

“My aunt, too—a rosy-faced old lady in a mob-cap—appeared quite in harmony with her surroundings. She was kindness itself—indeed, no one could have made me feel more thoroughly at home.

“‘Folks do say the house is haunted,’ she laughed, ‘particularly one room—but there! I have never seen anything, and I don’t suppose you will.’

“‘A ghost!’ I cried, ‘how awfully exciting! oh! do let me sleep in the haunted room,’ and I continued to plead till the kind-hearted old lady reluctantly consented.

“‘You mustn’t blame me if the ghost should visit you, Rosie,’ she said; ‘remember I have warned you.’

“‘There is nothing I should enjoy better than seeing a real bona-fide spook, auntie dear,’ I rejoined, smiling; but my aunt shook her head reprovingly, and no more was said on the subject until the next day.

“I awoke that night as the clock struck two—indeed, I fancied my awakening was due to that striking, it seemed so unusually loud and emphatic.

“It was a fine—indeed, I might say glorious—night, for although there was no moon, the heavens were so brilliantly illuminated with myriads of scintillating stars, that I could see every object around me almost as clearly as if it had been day.

“A sudden movement near the foot of the bed made me recollect my aunt’s admonition. I listened, experiencing none of those pleasant anticipations of which I had spoken so boastfully.

“I knew no one could have entered the room, as I had taken the precaution to lock the door, having first of all looked under the bed and made a thorough examination of the hanging wardrobe. Consequently my visitor, unless a mouse or a rat, could be nothing material.

“I devoutly wished I had slept in one of the other rooms.

“A faint and sickly odour now became perceptible whilst the noise hitherto uninterpretable developed into a series of unequal knocks just as if some big animal were lying on the floor ‘scratching’ itself.

“Determined not to appear frightened I put my hand out of bed and called ‘Trot! Trot! is that you?’ (Trot being the name of my auntie’s retriever.)

“Something instantly jumped up and, coming round the bed, stood by my side. Wondering whether it could be Trot, though at a loss to understand how he could have got into the room without being seen, I stretched out my fingers and to my intense relief touched a furry coat—the stench at the same time becoming so truly awful that I retched.

“I could, of course have satisfied myself as to the identity of my visitor by merely looking, but this, I am ashamed to say, I was too great a coward to do; a strange feeling telling me that I was in the presence of something unnatural.

“Running my hand fearfully along the shaggy skin of the animal, I felt for its head, discovering to my intense horror that it had none, the neck terminating in a wet mass of something soft and spongy.

“Unable to restrain myself any longer, I now looked, perceiving to my infinite terror a huge shock-haired spaniel, headless, and in the most abominable state of decomposition.

“I gazed at it for some seconds too appalled either to stir or utter a sound—this paralytic condition continuing till an abortive effort of the phantasm to jump on the bed loosened my tongue and I shrieked for help.

“The dog immediately vanished.

“My feelings had been, however, so outraged by what I had witnessed that nothing would have induced me to pass the remainder of the night in that room—my own idea was to get out of it with the utmost celerity.

“I did so—nor did I ever again—not even by daylight—venture to cross its threshold.

“My aunt, poor dear, was very much upset at the occurrence.

“She could not imagine how it was other people could see the ghost while she could not. And her scepticism was but natural; she was unable to grasp the idea that the psychic faculty is a gift, only granted to the few, and as rare as that either of music or painting.

“Other reasons for her incredulity in this particular occult manifestation lay in the enigmatical nature and purport of the phenomenon.

“In what category of ghosts would one classify a headless dog; Was it the spirit of a dog that had been decapitated on earth?

“She had never gathered from the Scriptures that beasts had souls—what then was this phantom of a dog?

“I suggested it might be a Poltergeist or Elemental, one of those purely bestial creations that for various reasons which you explained at your recent lecture—always haunt certain localities?”

“Yes!” I said, interrupting Miss Medley, “the sub-animal type of elemental is fairly common—if you refer to the June number 1908 of the magazine published by the Society for Psychical Research you will see an extremely well authenticated case of the haunting of a village by a white pig with an abnormally long snout and I could enumerate many other similar instances. But continue!”

“My aunt,” Miss Medley went on, “informed me that the house had once been occupied by a lady who had lived a very selfish—not to say sensual life. She had settled down at Burle, after having been divorced twice, and her weekly routine was one incessant whirl of pleasure.

“She died without the consolation of the Church, surrounded by a crowd of fawning money-hunters and over-gorged poodles, so that for this, as well as other reasons I think there may be an alternative solution to the haunting. Is it not possible that what I saw was actually the spirit of this worldly woman, which thoroughly brutalised by long indulgence in sensuality had gradually adapted that shape most befitting IT.”

“And the moral of that, Miss Medley,” I observed, “is—if you do not wish to become a beast do not live like one! Yes! there is much to be learned from a study of the different types of phantasms—more I believe than from any pulpit discourses. Is that your only psychic experience?”

Miss Medley shook her head. “No!” she said, “I had another very gruesome one at Burle. After the dog episode my aunt thought fit to warn me not to pass along a certain road after dusk. ‘There is an elm standing close to it,’ she said, ‘which the people about here declare to be haunted; as you have seen one ghost you may see another—so please be careful!’

“Now you might think that after such a disagreeable experience I would have followed my aunt’s advice, but curiosity getting the better of discretion I disobeyed her and, selecting a fine evening for the enterprise, set out to the tree.

“As it was two or three miles away, and I was dearly fond of riding, I hired a horse and going along at a jog-trot approached the forbidden spot at about eight o’clock.

“The lane in which the haunted elm stood was narrow, trees of all sorts and sizes lined it on either side, and the shadows, intensified by the thickness of the foliage overhead, almost obliterated the roadway.

“All was dark and silent. I no longer wondered at the villagers fighting shy of such a place; it looked a positive cock-pit of spookdom.

“At about twenty or so yards from the notorious elm my horse showed unmistakable signs of uneasiness, laying back its ears and shivering to such an extent that it was only by dint of alternate threats and caresses that I succeeded in urging it forward. Arriving at a spot level with the tree the animal shied, and had I not been a pretty good horse-woman I might have met with a nasty accident, but I stuck to my seat like a leech, and using my whip smartly drew in the reins. My horse fell back on its haunches; reared—plunged headlong forward—took the bit between its teeth and—we were off like the wind.

“Fortunately I was prepared; leaning back in my saddle I enjoyed rather than otherwise so mad a career. But my pleasure received a sudden check when I perceived, to my horror, the figure of a tall woman dressed in black striding along by the side of us and keeping pace with us without any apparent effort.

“Heaven alone knew where she came from unless from the tree; I fancied I had heard something drop from the branches at the moment my horse shied. As the woman was wearing a cloak drawn over her head, I could not see her face but from the grotesque outlines of her limbs and body, I concluded it must be unpleasantly bizarre.

“We kept together in this extraordinary fashion until we came in sight of Burle, when she quickened her steps, and tearing off the hood thrust her face upwards into mine.

“It was awful—utterly and inconceivably AWFUL—so awful that I felt the very marrow in my bones freeze with horror while my heart stood still.

“She had no hair; her head was round and shiny, whilst her face, yellow and swollen, was covered all over with circular black spots causing it to bear a striking resemblance to one of those old-fashioned carriage dogs!!! Her eyes were black and sinister; she had no nose, whilst her mouth was—horrid—the most horrid thing about her.

“With a diabolical grin she grabbed at my jacket and would, I believe, have torn me from my seat had we not at this moment, in the very nick of time, arrived within sight of the gates of Burle Farm.

“My aunt, with several other people, was awaiting me, and as with a desperate spurt I galloped up to them, the infernal hag let go her hold of my jacket, slackened her pace and vanished.”