CHAPTER XIV.

Spiritualistic Floating Hands. Hands in Haunted
Houses. Jerome Cardan's Tale. " The Cold
Hand." The Beach-comber's Tale. " The Black
Dogs and the Thumhless Hand.'' The Pakeha Maori and ** The Leprous Hand ". " The Hand of the Ghost that Bit.''
HANDS ALL ROUND.
Nothing was more common, in the seances of Home, the '' Medium," than the appearance of " Spirit hands". If these were made of white kid gloves, stuffed, the idea, at least, was borrowed from ghost stories, in which ghostly hands, with no visible bodies, are not unusual. We see them in the Shchapoff case, at Rerrick, and in other haunted houses. Here are some tales of Hands, old or new.
THE COLD HAND.
[Jerome Cardan, the famous physician, tells the following anecdote in his De Rerum Varietate, lib. x., 93- Jerome only once heard a rapping himself, at the time of the death of a friend at a distance. He was in a terrible fright, and dared not leave his room all day.]
A story which my father used often to tell : *' I was brought up," he said, "in the house of Joannes
I
A FOLLET. 289
Resta, and therein taught Latin to his three sons ; when I left them I supported myself on my own means. It chanced that one of these lads, while I was studying medicine, fell deadly sick, he being now a young man grown, and I was called in to be with the youth, partly for my knowledge of medicine, partly for old friendship's sake. The master of the house happened to be absent ; the patient slept in an upper chamber, one of his brothers and I in a lower room, the third brother, Isidore, was not at home. Each of the rooms was next to a turret; turrets being common in that city. When we went to bed on the first night of my visit, I heard a constant knocking on the wall of the room.
"'What is that?' I said.
" * Don't be afraid, it is only a famiHar spirit,' said my companion. 'They call them follets ; it is harm.less enough, and seldom so troublesome as it is now: I don't know what can be the matter with it.'
" The young fellow went to sleep, but I was kept awake for a while, wondering and observing. After half an hour of stillness I felt a thumb press on my head, and a sense of cold. I kept watching ; the fore- finger, the middle finger, and the rest of the hand were next laid on, the little finger nearly reaching my forehead. The hand was like that of a boy of ten, to guess by the size, and so cold that it was extremely unpleasant. Meantime I was chuckling over my luck in such an opportunity of witnessing a wonder, and I listened eagerly.
"The hand stole with the ring finger foremost 19
290 DREAMS AND GHOSTS.
over my face and down my nose, it was slipping into my mouth, and two finger-tips had entered, when I threw it off with my right hand, thinking it was un- canny, and not reHshing it inside my body. Silence followed and I lay awake, distrusting the spectre more or less. In about half an hour it returned and repeated its former conduct, touching me very lightly, yet very chilly. When it reached my mouth I again drove it away. Though my lips were tightly closed, I felt an extreme icy cold in my teeth. I now got out of bed, thinking this might be a friendly visit from the ghost of the sick lad upstairs, who must have died.
" As I went to the door, the thing passed before me, rapping on the walls. When I was got to the door it knocked outside ; when I opened the door, it began to knock on the turret. The moon was shining; I went on to see what would happen, but it beat on the other sides of the tower, and, as it always evaded me, I went up to see how my patient was. He was alive, but very weak.
" As I was speaking to those who stood about his bed, we heard a noise as if the house was falling. In rushed my bedfellow, the brother of the sick lad, half dead with terror.
** * When you got up,' he said, ' I felt a cold hand on my back. I thought it was you who wanted to waken me and take me to see my brother, so I pre- tended to be asleep and lay quiet, supposing that you would go alone when you found me so sound asleep. But when I did not feel you get up, and the cold hand grew to be more than I could bear, I hit
FAIRY NANCY. 29 1
It to push your hand away, and felt your place empty — but warm. Then I remembered the follet, and ran upstairs as hard as I could put my feet to the ground : never was I in such a fright ! '
** The sick lad died on the following night."
Here Garden the elder stopped, and Jerome, his son, philosophised on the subject.
Miss Dendy, on the authority of Mr. Elijah Cope, an itinerant preacher, gives this anecdote of similar familiarity with a follet in Staffordshire.
" Fairies ! I went into a farmhouse to stay a night, and in the evening there came a knocking in the room as if some one had struck the table. I jumped up. My hostess got up and ' Good-night/ says she, 'I'm off'. 'But what was it?' says I. *Just a poor old fairy,' says she; * Old Nancy. She's a poor old thing ; been here ever so long ; lost her husband and her children ; it's bad to be left like that, all alone. I leave a bit o' cake on the table for her, and sometimes she fetches it, and some- times she don't."
THE BLACK DOG AND THE THUMBLESS HAND.
[Some years ago I published in a volume of tales called The Wrong Paradise, a paper styled " My Friend the Beach-comber". This contained genuine adventures of a kinsman, my oldest and most intimate friend, who has passed much of his life in the Pacific, mainly in a foreign colony, and in the wild New Hebrides. My friend is a man of education, an artist.
292 DREAMS AND GHOSTS.
and a student of anthropology and ethnology. En- gaged on a work of scientific research, he has not committed any of his innumerable adventures, war- like or wandering, to print. The following "yam " he sent to me lately, in a letter on some points of native customs. Of course the description of the Beach-comber, in the book referred to, is purely fictitious. The yarn of *' The Thumbless Hand " is here cast in a dialogue, but the whole of the strange experience described is given in the words of the narrator. It should be added that, though my friend was present at some amateur seances, in a remote isle of the sea, he is not a spiritualist, never was one, and has no theory to account for what occurred, and no belief in " spooks " of any description. His faith is plighted to the theories of Mr. Darwin, and that is his only superstition. The name of the principal character in the yarn is, of course, fictitious. The real name is an old but not a noble one in England.]
" Have the natives the custom of walking through fire ? " said my friend the Beach-comber, in answer to a question of mine. " Not that I know of. In fact the soles of their feet are so thick-skinned that they would think nothing of it."
"Then have they any spiritualistic games, like the Burmans and Maories ? I have a lot of yarns about them."
" They are too jolly well frightened of bush spirits
to invite them to tea," said the Beach-comber. " I
knew a fellow who got a bit of land merely by
whistling up and down in it at nightfall.^ They think
1 Fact.
BLACK DOGS. 293
)irits whistle. No, I don't fancy they go in for seances. But we once had some, we white men, in one of the islands. Not the Oui-ouis" (native name for the French), " real white men. And that led to Bolter's row with me."
*' What about ? "
'' Oh, about his young woman. I told her the story ; it was thoughtless, and yet I don't know that I was wrong. After all, Bolter could not have been a comfortable fellow to marry."
In this opinion readers of the Beach-comber's narrative will probably agree, I fancy.
'' Bad moral character ? "
'* Not that I know of. Queer fish ; kept queer company. Even if she was ever so fond of dogs, I don't think a girl would have cared for Bolter's kennel. Not in her bedroom anyway."
" But she could surely have got him to keep them outside, however doggy he was ? "
" He was not doggy a bit. I don't know that Bolter ever saw the black dogs himself. He cer- tainly never told me so. It is that beastly Thumb- less Hand, no woman could have stood it, not to mention the chance of catching cold when it pulled the blankets off."
" What on earth are you talking about ? I can understand a man attended by black dogs that no- body sees but himself. The Catholics tell it of John Knox, and of another Reformer, a fellow called Smeaton. Moreover, it is common in delirium tre- mens. But you say Bolter didn't see the dogs ? "
" No, not so far as he told me, but I did, and other
294 DREAMS AND GHOSTS.
fellows, when with Bolter. Bolter was asleep; didn't see anything. Also the Hand, which was good deal worse. I don't know if he ever saw if But he was jolly nervous, and he had heard of it."
The habits of the Beach-comber are absolutely temperate, otherwise my astonishment would have been less, and I should have regarded all these phenomena as subjective.
" Tell me about it all, old cock," I said.
*' I'm sure I told you last time I was at home."
** Never; my memory for yarns is only too good. I hate a chestnut."
" Well, here goes ! Mind you I don't profess to explain the thing ; only I don't think I did wrong in telling the young woman, for, however you account for it, it was not nice."
" A good many years ago there came to the island, as a clerk, un nomme Bolter, English or Jew."
" His name is not Jewish."
" No, and I really don't know about his breed. The most curious thing about his appearance was his eyes : they were large, black, and had a peculiar dull dead lustre."
" Did they shine in the dark ? I knew a fellow at Oxford whose eyes did. Chairs ran after him."
" I never noticed ; I don't remember. * Psychi- cally,' as you superstitious muifs call it, Bolter was still more queer. At that time we were all gone on spirit-rapping. Bolter turned out a great acquisi- tion, 'medium,' or what not. Mind you, I'm not saying Bolter was straight. In the dark he'd tell you what you had in your hand, exact time of your
I
BOLTER'S EYES. 295
Ltch, and so on. I didn't take stock in this, and T)ne night brought some photographs with me, and asked for a description of them. This he gave cor- rectly, winding up by saying, * The one nearest your body is that of ' "
Here my friend named a person well known to both of us, whose name I prefer not to introduce here. This person, I may add, had never been in or near the island, and was totally unknown to Bolter.
" Of course," my friend went on, "the photographs were all the time inside my pocket. Now, really. Bolter had some mystic power of seeing in the dark."
" Hyperaesthesia ! " said I.
" Hypercriticism ! " said the Beach-comber.
" What happened next might be hyperaesthesia — I suppose you mean abnormal intensity of the senses — but how could hyperaesthesia see through a tweed coat and lining ? "
" Well, what happened next ? "
" Bolter's firm used to get sheep by every mail
from , and send them regularly to their station,
six miles oif. One time they landed late in the afternoon, and yet were foolishly sent off. Bolter in charge. I said at the time he would lose half the lot, as it would be dark long before he could reach the station. He didn't lose them !
" Next day I met one of the niggers who was sent to lend him a hand, and asked results.
"'Master,' said the nigger, 'Bolter is a devil! He sees at night. When the sheep ran away to right or left in the dark, he told us where to follow.'"
" He heard them, I suppose," said I.
296 DREAMS AND GHOSTS.
** Maybe, but you must be sharp to have sharper senses than these niggers. Anyhow, that was not Bolter's account of it. When I saw him and spok to him he said simply, ' Yes, that when excited interested to seek or find anything in obscurity t object became covered with a dim glow of ligh which rendered it visible'. ' But things in a pocket.' * That also,' said he. ' Curious isn't it ? Probably the Rontgen rays are implicated therein, eh ? ' "
" Did you ever read Dr. Gregory's Letters on Animal Magnetism ? "
" The cove that invented Gregory's Mixture ? "
"Yes."
"Beast he must have been. No, I never read him."
" He says that Major Buckley's hypnotised sub- jects saw hidden objects in a blue light — mottoes inside a nut, for example."
" Rontgen rays, for a fiver ! But Bolter said nothing about seeing blue light. Well, after three or four seances Bolter used to be very nervous and unwilling to sleep alone, so I once went with him to his one-roomed hut. We turned into the same bed. I was awakened later by a noise and movement in the room. Found the door open ; the full moon streaming in, making light like day, and the place full of great big black dogs — well, anyhow there were four or five ! They were romping about, seemingly playing. One jumped on the bed, another rubbed his muzzle on mine ! (the bed was low, and I slept outside). Now I never had anything but love for dogs of any kind, and as — n'est-ce pas ? — love casts out
lUL
i
THE THUMBLESS HAND. 297
ir, I simply got up, turned them all out, shut the
>or, and turned in again myself. Of course my lea was that they were flesh and blood, and I allude
physical fear.
" I slept, but was anew awakened by a ghastly •feeling that the blanket was being dragged and creeping oif the bed. I pulled it up again, but anew began the slow movement of descent.
" Rather surprised, I pulled it up afresh and held it, and must have dozed off, as I suppose. Awoke, to feel it being pulled again ; it was slipping, slipping, and then with a sudden, violent jerk it was thrown on the floor. II faiit dire that during all this I had glanced several times at Bolter, who seemed pro- foundly asleep. But now alarmed I tried to wake him. In vain, he slept like the dead; his face, always a pasty white, now like marble in the moon- light. After some hesitation I put the blanket back on the bed and held it fast. The pulling at once began and increased in strength, and I, by this time thoroughly alarmed, put all my strength against it, and hung on like grim death.
" To get a better hold I had taken a turn over my head (or perhaps simply to hide), when suddenly I felt a pressure outside on my body, and a movement like fingers — they gradually approached my head. Mad with fear I chucked off the blanket, grasped a Hand, gazed on it for one moment in silent horror, and threw it away ! No wonder, it was attached to no arm or body, it was hairy and dark coloured, the fingers were short, blunt, with long, claw-like nails, and it was minus a thumb ! Too frightened to get up
298 DREAMS AND GHOSTS.
I had to stop in bed, and, I suppose, fell to sleep again, after fresh vain attempts to awaken Bolter. Next morning I told him about it. He said several men who had thus passed the night with him had seen this hand. * But,' added he, * it's lucky you didn't have the big black dogs also.' Tableau !
" I was to have slept again with him next night to look further into the matter, but a friend of his came from that day, so I could not renew the experi- ment, as I had fully determined to do. By-the-bye, I was troubled for months after by the same feeling that the clothes were being pulled off the bed.
"And that's the yarn of the Black Dogs and the Thumbless Hand."
" I think," said I, " that you did no harm in telling Bolter's young woman,"
" I never thought of it when I told her, or of her interest in the kennel ; but, by George, she soon broke off her engagement."
" Did you know Manning, the Pakeha Maori, the fellow who wrote Old New Zealand ? "
**No, what about him?"
" He did not put it in his book, but he told the same yarn, without the dogs, as having happened to himself. He saw the whole arm, and the hand was leprous.'^
" Ugh ! " said the Beach-comber.
*' Next morning he was obliged to view the body Oi an old Maori, who had been murdered in his garden the night before. That old man's ban "i was the hand he saw. I know a room in au old house in England where plucking off the bed-clothes goes on.
: liv
I
THE GHOST THAT BIT. 299
ery now and then, and has gone on as long as
e present occupants have been there. But I only
ard lately, and they only heard from me, that the e thing used to occur, in the same room and no bther, in the last generation, when another family lived there."
" Anybody see anything ? '*
" No, only footsteps are heard creeping up, before
e twitches come off."
" And what do the people do ? "
*' Nothing ! We set a camera once to photograph the spook. He did not sit."
" It's rum ! *' said the Beach-comber. " But mind you, as to spooks, I don't beheve a word of it"^
THE GHOST THAT BIT.
The idiot Scotch laird in the story would not let the dentist put his fingers into his mouth, "for I'm feared ye'U bite me ". The following anecdote proves that a ghost may entertain a better founded alarm on this score. A correspondent of Notes and Queries (3rd Sept., 1864) is responsible for the narrative, given " almost verbatim from the lips of the lady herself," a person of tried veracity.
" Emma S , one of seven children, was sleeping
alone, with her face towards the west, at a large
house near C , in the Staffordshire moorlands.
As she had given orders to her maid to call her at an early hour, she was not surprised at being awakened between three and four on a fine August morning in 1840 by a sharp tapping at her door, when in spite of a "thank you, I hear," to the first
^ Comhill Magazine, 1896.
300 DREAMS AND GHOSTS.
and second raps, with the third came a rush of wind, which caused the curtains to be drawn up in tb centre of the bed. She became annoyed, and sittini up called out, " Marie, what are you about ? "
Instead, however, of her servant, she was astonishe to see the face of an aunt by marriage peering above' and between the curtains, and at the same moment — whether unconsciously she threw forward her arms, or whether they were drawn forward, as it were, in a vortex of air, she cannot be sure — one of her thumbs was sensibly pressed between the teeth of the ap- parition, though no mark afterwards remained on it. All this notwithstanding, she remained collected and unalarmed ; but instantly arose, dressed, and went downstairs, where she found not a creature stirring.
Her father, on coming down shortly afterwards, naturally asked what had made her rise so early ; rallied her on the cause, and soon afterwards went on to his sister-in-law's house, where he found that she had just unexpectedly died. Coming back again, and not noticing his daughter's presence in the room, in conse- quence of her being behind a screen near the fire, he suddenly announced the event to his wife, as being of so remarkable a character that he could in no way account for it. As may be anticipated, Emma, over- hearing this unlooked-for denouement of her dream, at once fell to the ground in a fainting condition.
On one of the thumbs of the corpse was found a mark as if it had been bitten in the death agony. ^
1 This story should come under the head of " Common Deathbed Wraiths," but, it is such an uncommon one !
I
THE READER MUST DECIDE. 301
We have now followed the "ghostly" from its germs in dreams, and momentary hallucinations of eye or ear, up to the most prodigious narratives which popular invention has built on bases probably very slight. Where facts and experience, whether real or hallucinatory experience, end, where the mythopoeic fancy comes in, readers may decide for themselves.
Messrs. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.'S
CLASSIFIED CATALOGUE
OF
lORKS IN GENERAL LITERATURE.
History, Politics, Polity, Political Memoirs, &c.
)Ott. — A History of Greece. Evelyn Abbott, M.A., LL.D.