Part III - The Akenfield Poltergeist.
An entry from Golightly’s case book concerning his visit to The Rectory.
June 27, 1899
B met me at the station, and his man, Briggs, took my bags to the rectory in the brougham.
B insisted we walk the scenic route to the rectory.
Much quicker than taking the road, B assured me, but, I was somewhat concerned that my Louis Vuitton black patent derbies would be a little worse for wear. Again, B assured me not to worry - and - promised that he himself would polish them. I was glad of my overcoat and Optimo beaver fur trilby, as the heavens opened not 10 minutes after we had set off.
I have to confess, B was in a somewhat nervous and distracted state of mind. As we walked we went over what he had told me in his letters and on the telephone.
I was most intrigued to hear that Margaret had organised a seance for this very evening. I did not say anything, and when he insisted that I attend, I agreed.
I have published on the chicanery of mediums in the Journal; whatever was to happen, I was sure that we would encounter nothing but nonsense.
Golightly and Bond stride out to The Rectory. The weather had been inclement for the last few days, and most disappointing for June. Despite the damp, the walk afforded the pair time to discuss the matter at hand.
It was late afternoon, under a heavy sky, when we arrived at the Rectory. It was indeed an imposing and somewhat unhappy building.
I was impressed by the silence that appeared to me to surround the house, as I was shown into a dark hallway and met by a domestic, Alice, who informed B that a parishioner was waiting for him in the front parlour. B excused himself, and Alice took my coat and handed my bag.
I was reluctant to let her take my trilby. The weather had been most unkind on our walk (June downpours) and I needed to make sure it was correctly brushed and placed at the right distance from a fire so it would not scorch or lose its shape.
Golightly is most relieved to unburden himself of his damp travelling coat. However, being most particular about the handling of his trilby, he decline’s Alice’s offer to dry it for him.
Golightly’s shoes did indeed need a good clean after the muddy walk to the rectory.
Alice told me that Mrs Margaret sent her apologies, but was busy with arrangements for the early evening meeting that would soon be upon us. She also informed me that a friend of Mrs Margaret, the Edward Cummins to whom B had already referred, was away on business, but sent his best regards.
She showed me to a small dining room, and offered me a late afternoon tea, which I readily accepted.
There was a fire burning in the grate, but I could not escape the chill in the house.
B joined me for tea, and with a distracted air told me that Margaret had arranged the sitting for the early evening with a noted medium, Mrs Kipling. He apologised again for the undue hurry, and made clear his regrets that I did not have time to properly change and prepare myself after the journey. After some discussion about old times at Petersfield, he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket, and urged me to join him in the front parlour in 5 minutes. Just enough time to finish a third cup of tea.
Alice showed me down the dark corridor to the front parlour. We knocked and entered.
The room had been set up to the medium’s instructions. I was entirely familiar with the subterfuges that allowed such people to manifest spirits, produce automatic writing or other such ‘showings forth’ of ‘spirits’ of the deceased. B and Margaret were sat by each other. The medium was yet to arrive. I was immediately struck by the tension in the room, but B tried to make light of it, and introduced me very formally to Margaret, who, equally formally, welcomed me and thanked me for joining their meeting at short notice.
The front parlour had been set up to the medium, Mrs Kipling’s, instructions. Margaret and her husband were sat next to each other, awaiting Mrs Kipling’s arrival. Margaret, somewhat surprised that Golightly was joining them for the seance, asked Alice to bring an extra chair.
The seance, as I suspected, was a piece of play acting on the part of Mrs Kipling.
Of course she could channel a lost soul who was trapped somehow in this world. With the usual entreaties, Mrs Kipling reminded the spirit that it had departed from this life and should seek its rest. I did not intervene but observed carefully, committing various small things to memory so I would be able to write them up in my notes.
Margaret seemed most impressed and eager to invite Mrs Kipling back, as the latter had convinced the former that further work was necessary to encourage the spirit to move on to the light of the soul world.
Noticing B’s barely contained distress, I thought it best not to go into the details of spiritualist ‘theologies’. Indeed, I resolved to say nothing substantial until the morning. I was relieved when Mrs Kipling was shown out, and Margaret excused herself to retire to bed. I did not press B on any details. We were both, I think, unimpressed by Mrs Kipling.
B mentioned that Edward Cummins had recommended her services to Margaret. Cummins has spiritualist leanings. I will talk to him when he returns from his business trip. B informs me that he is a confidant of Maragert’s, and it was mainly on her insistence that B had offered him a room at the Rectory.
After a reasonable meal by a jolly fire in the kitchen (we had decided not to stand on ceremony), we bid each other goodnight. B had informed me that Alice had lit a fire in one of the many unoccupied rooms that was to be my quarters for the evening. It was located some way along a corridor, towards the end of the wing that was presently inhabited. According to B, his predecessor had known it as the Blue Room.
I became aware that Alice had needed some encouragement to make up the room for me, but I considered it as no more than the usual problems that are occasioned by the management of domestics.
Alice showed me to the corridor off which the Blue Room could be found. She was most reluctant to accompany me. Indeed, she informed me that Nancy, the former domestic had suffered badly with her nerves, and had left B’s employ some weeks earlier. She handed me the candle, and with not undue haste, turned on her heels.
I had a sense of the house around me as I made my way along the corridor to the blue room this evening.
A fire is flickering in the grate and the bed has been turned down. I must ready myself for bed now, and will resume my notes in the morning.
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