A rambler’s tale of things that go bump in the night (From Craven Herald)

A rambler’s tale of things that go bump in the night

10:10am Saturday 28th January 2012 in Craven History

There is nothing better during the cold, dark winter nights than huddling round an open fire to be regaled with tales of ghosts and ghouls haunting crumbling old houses.

Thanks partly to its wealth of historic buildings, there are plenty of ghost stories associated with Craven and the Dales.

One such tale appears in the wonderful Rambles in Upper Wharfedale, written by Bailey John Harker in the mid-1800s and, like all good ghost stories, it has a twist. The incidents related take place in Grassington Old Hall, which has all the attributes of a classic ghost story location.

“From the style of its architecture it appears to have been originally built for some ecclesiastical purpose and it is not improbable that it was,” Harker speculated.

“I have often thought of it in connection with monks and friars, and I have tried to picture these beings pacing its corridors, or chanting their prayers in these once gloomy apartments.

“It may have been the Manor House. If so, we may try to imagine ourselves living in the time of the Plumptons and see these bold knights leaving it on their prancing steeds, themselves all clad in armour, to join in the clash of war; or else, in woodland green, and, with bow and arrow, to hunt the timid deer.

“There is connected with the old hall many a curious tale. It was strongly talked amongst the inhabitants of the town, in years that are passed away, that strange noises were to be heard in it, and that those who dwelt there were often terrified with them awaking them out of their ‘first sleep’ during the night; and it was reported that they sometimes saw ghost-like forms flit through the rooms and imagined they heard the pattering of their feet as they went down the old oaken staircase.

“When the black shades of evening enclosed the mansion, very few were the persons who would dare to approach it; but, happily, all the ghosts have long since been ‘laid’, and the hall is never now molested with such visitants.

“It will not do, however, to let the following story (which was once told me by the person who lived at the hall during the time it refers to) pass without being noticed.”

Having nicely set the scene, Harker began building the tension with his classic tale of bumps (or bumphs) in the night.

“Once upon a time, the inmates of the hall were more alarmed than usual; it was then tenanted by the Browns. Almost immediately after the members of the family had retired to rest, they were startled by a noise which proceeded from the kitchen: something went ‘bumph, bumph, bumph,’ – three times – and then there was a rattling of crockery, as though fairies were preparing themselves a meal and about to enjoy it. After a short time there was silence, and in anxious suspense they laid awaiting the issue; then came the sound of the ‘bumph’ again; they each asked themselves ‘What can be the matter?’, but that night went by and nothing more was heard.

“When the morning came, they, with bated breath, talked over the affair one to the other, and decided if they heard the noise any more they would find out the real cause of their alarm, if such a thing was possible.

“A member of the household, called John, but who generally went by the name of ‘Jack’ Solomon, volunteered to try to solve the mystery. He was rather a fearless sort of character and, when I was a boy, I know full well he was my greatest dread, for then he lived in a house where he made besoms [broomsticks] of heather, and he used to scare children from near his door by brandishing an open knife.

“It was arranged, if an opportunity presented itself, he should put his bold offer into practice and after the day was over he retired to his room (which was the servant-man’s) well-armed for a fray, and all the rest retired to theirs. But sleep was far from them. The previous night’s fright upset them and drops of sweat stood on their brows as they listened for the dreaded ‘bumph’.

“The rustling of the trees outside made them start and their imaginations drew on the canvass of their minds pictures which made their blood run cold. At last, the ‘bumph’ was heard again, proceeding from the kitchen as before, and it drove terror into every breast. Even ‘Jack’ gave back and wished he had never undertaken such a terrible job as that he had in hand. However, he would not be a coward; his word had been given and, like a true dalesman, he would keep it, if it cost him his life.

“He therefore stole stealthily down the stairs with a light in one hand and a weapon in the other. He gently lifted the latch of the stair’s door and stood ready to open it, when, lo! in a few seconds, the noise began again and something seemed to move along the top of the table! His heart quivered and his hair stood erect, but in he rushed to face the worst and turning his light in the direction of the ‘boggert’.

“There, sure enough, he discovered among the basins, &c., which had not been removed after supper, the big black cat, with his head fast in the milk jug! It appears that in this vessel some of the precious beverage which it contained had been thoughtlessly left and the neck of the jug being too small, the thief was entrapped.

“Thus, for two successive nights, a whole family was disturbed by the mischief of one of the most harmless and useful of our domestic animals. If the Browns had never made out this discovery, they would very likely have been firm in the belief that some restless spirit had visited them, but after it they lost all faith in their former superstitions with regard to ghosts.”

So, this ghostly tale had a happy ending and Harker used it as proof that most such tales of mysterious happenings could easily be explained. He wrote: “It gives us one instance, among many, of the simple and ludicrous origin of hundreds of the ghost tales which are told by the firesides of country homes, even in this age, to the terror of children and the superstitious wonder of ignorant adults.”