Latest / Sandman Stories Presents / EP 306: Halloween- Dead or Alive;The Scratch on the Cheek

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EP 306: Halloween- Dead or Alive;The Scratch on the Cheek · Sandman Stories Presents

• 0:26
  Welcome back listeners to Sandman Stories Presents.
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  We're on the 3rd installment of the Halloween story with two
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  stories. There's some talk about death
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  and spookiness, so I'd be cautious with the easily
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  spooked. The first story is about not
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  letting anything get in the way of a meeting, and the second
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  story tells of a sighting made from scratch.
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  OK, let's begin. Dead or alive?
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  In the following case, the ghost kept its promise to appear,
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  doing so in all appearances in spite of great obstacles.
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  The incident is reported in Mr. WT Steed's Real Ghost Stories,
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  pages 2O5 to two O 8. The following incident occurred
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  to me some years ago, and all the details can be
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  substantiated. The date was August 26th, 1867,
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  at midnight. I was then residing in the
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  neighborhood of Hull, and held an appointment under the Crown,
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  which necessitated my repairing there every day for a few hours
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  of duty. My birth was almost sinecure,
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  and I had for some time been engaged to a young North Country
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  heiress, it being understood that on our marriage I should
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  take her name and stand for the country, or rather for one of
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  its divisions. For her sake I had to break off
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  a love affair not of the most reputable order, with a girl in
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  Hull. I will call her Louise.
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  She was young, beautiful, and devoted to me.
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  On the night of the 26th of August, we took our last walk
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  together and a few minutes before midnight, paused on a
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  wooden bridge running across some kind of canal locally
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  termed a drain. We paused on the bridge,
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  listening to the swirling of the current against the wooden piles
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  and waiting for the stroke of midnight to part forever.
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  In the few minutes interval she repeated Soto Voce, Longfellow's
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  Bridge. The words of which I stood on
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  the bridge at midnight seemed terribly appropriate.
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  After nearly 25 years, I can never hear that peace recited
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  without feeling a deadly chill and the whole scene of two souls
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  in agony again rising before me. Well, midnight struck and we
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  parted. But Louise said, grant me one
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  favor, the only one that I shall ever ask of you on this earth.
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  Promise to meet me here 12 months from tonight at this very
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  same hour. I demurred at first, thinking it
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  would be bad for both of us and only reopen partially healed
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  wounds. At last, however, I consented
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  saying well I will come if I'm alive.
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  But she said say alive or dead. I said very well then we will
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  meet dead or alive the next year.
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  I was on the spot a few minutes before the time, and punctual to
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  the stroke of midnight, Louise arrived.
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  By this time I've begun to regret the arrangement I had
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  made, but it was too solemn of a nature to put aside.
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  I therefore kept the appointment, but said that I did
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  not care to renew the compact. Louise, however, persuaded me to
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  renew it for one more year, and I consented much against my
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  will, and we again left each other, repeating the same
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  formula, dead or alive. The next year passed rapidly
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  until the first week in July, when I was shot dangerously in
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  the thigh by a fisherman of Hull, named Thomas Pyles, A
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  reputed smuggler. A party of four of us had hired
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  his Tan Tan Yao to go yachting around the Yorkshire coast and
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  amuse ourselves by shooting sea birds amongst the millions of
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  them at Flamborough Head. The 3rd or 4th day out I was
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  shot in the right thigh by the skipper Pyles, and the day after
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  one and 1/4 ounce of #2 shot were cut from there by the Coast
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  Guard surgeon at Bridlington Key, whose name I forget for the
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  moment, assisted by Doctor Alexander Mackey.
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  At the Black Lion Hotel. The affair was in all the papers
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  of the time about a column of it appearing in the halls.
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  Eastern Morning News As soon as I was able to be moved around
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  two or three weeks, I was taken home, where Dr. Melbourne, King
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  of Hall, attended me the day and the night the 26th of August
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  came. I was then unable to walk
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  without crutches, and only for a short distance, so I had to be a
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  wheeled about in a bath chair. The distance to the trusting
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  place being rather long, and the time and the circumstances being
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  very peculiar, I did not avail myself of the services of my
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  usual attendant, but specially retained an old servant of the
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  family, who frequently did confidential commissions for me,
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  and who knew Miss Louise well. We set forth without the beat of
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  drum, and arrived at the bridge about a few minutes to midnight.
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  I remember that it was a brilliant starlit night, but I
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  do not think that there was any moon.
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  At all events, at that hour, old Bob, as he was affectionately
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  called, wheeled me to the bridge, helped me out of the
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  bath chair and gave him my crutch.
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  I walked onto the bridge and leaned my back against the white
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  painted rail top, then lit my briar root and had a comfortable
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  smoke. I was very much annoyed that I
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  had allowed myself to be persuaded to come a second time
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  and determined to tell Louise positively that this should be
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  our last meeting. Besides, now, I did not consider
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  it fair to Miss Kay, with whom I was again negotiating, so, if
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  anything, I was in a rather sulky frame of mind that I
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  waited for Louise. Just as the quarter before the
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  hour began to chime, I distinctly heard the clink,
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  clink of little brass heels which she always wore, sounding
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  on the long flag Causeway leading for 200 yards up to the
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  bridge. As she got nearer I could see
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  her past lamp after lamp in the rapid succession, while the
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  strokes of the large clock at Hull resounded through the still
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  night. At last the patter patter of the
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  tiny feet sounded on the woodwork of the bridge, and I
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  saw her distinctly pass on to the lamp beside me.
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  When she got close to me I saw that she neither had hat nor
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  Cape on, and concluded that she had taken a cab at the further
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  end of the flagged Causeway, and it being a very warm night, had
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  left her wraps in the cab, and for the purposes of effect, had
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  come the short distance in an evening dress.
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  Clink, clink went the brass heels, and she seemed about
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  passing me, when I suddenly, urged by an impulse of
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  affection, stretched out my arms to receive her.
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  She passed through them, intangible, impalpable, and as
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  she looked at me I distinctly saw her lips move, and formed
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  the words dead or alive. I even heard the words, but not
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  with my outward ears, with something else, some other
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  sense, what I know not. I felt startled, surprised, but
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  not afraid, until a moment afterwards, when I felt, but
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  could not see, some other presence following her.
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  I could feel, though I could not hear, the heavy, clumsy thud of
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  feet following her, and my blood seemed to turn to ice.
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  Recovering myself with an effort, I shouted out to old
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  Bob, who was safely ensconced with the Bath chair and a nook
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  around the corner. Bob, who passed you just now.
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  In an instant the old Yorkshire man was by my side.
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  Narrow 1 past me, Sir. Nonsense, Bob, I replied.
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  I told you that I was coming to meet Miss Louise, and she had
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  just passed me on the bridge and must have passed you because
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  there's nowhere else she could go.
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  You don't mean to tell me that you didn't see her?
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  The old man replied solemnly. Maister Rab, there's something
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  uncanny about it. I heared her come on the bridge
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  and off it, and I gnaw them clickety heels anywhere.
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  But I'm dumb, Sir. She passed me.
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  I'm thinking we'd better gang. And gang we did, and it was the
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  small hours of the morning getting daylight before we left
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  off talking over the affair and went to bed.
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  The next day I made inquiries from Louise's family about her,
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  and ascertained that she had died in Liverpool three months
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  previously, being apparently delirious for a few hours before
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  her death, and our parting compact evidently weighing on
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  her mind. Has she kept repeating dead or
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  alive? Shall I be there to the utter
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  bewilderment of her friends, who could not divine her meaning,
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  being, of course, entirely unaware of our agreement?
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  The End and Store number 2.
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  The scratch on the cheek. The case appeared in the
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  proceedings of the American Society of Phantoms and Romance,
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  and the high character of the witnesses was vouched for by
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  Doctor Hodgson and Professor Royce.
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  It is to the following effect. January 11th, 1888.
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  Sir, replying to your recently published request for actual
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  occurrences of physical phenomena, I respectfully submit
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  the following remarkable occurrence to the consideration
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  of your distinguished society, with the assurance that the
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  event made more powerful impression upon my mind than the
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  combined incidents of my whole life.
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  I was never in better health or possessed A clearer mind than at
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  the time that the incident occurred.
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  In 1867 my only sister, a young lady of 18 years, died suddenly
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  of cholera in St. Louis, MO.
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  My attachment to her was very strong, and the blow was a
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  severe one for me. A year or so after her death I
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  became a commercial traveller, and it was in 1876, while on one
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  of my western trips, that the event occurred.
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  I had drummed the city of St. Joseph, MO, and had gone to my
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  room at the Pacific House to send in my orders, which were
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  unusually large ones, so I was in a very happy frame of mind
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  indeed. My thoughts, of course, were
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  about these orders. Knowing how pleased my house
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  would be at my success. I had not been thinking of my
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  late sister or in any manner reflecting on the past.
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  The hour was high noon and the sun was shining cheerfully into
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  my room. While busy smoking a cigar and
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  writing out my orders, I suddenly became conscious that
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  someone was sitting on my left with one arm resting on the
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  table. Quick as a flash I turned and
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  distinctly saw the form of my dead sister, and for a brief
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  second or two looked her squarely in the face.
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  And so sure was I that it was she that I sprang forward in
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  delight, calling her by name. And as I did so, the apparition
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  instantly vanished. Naturally, I was startled and
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  dumbfounded, almost doubting my senses, but the cigar in my
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  mouth and pen in hand, with ink still moist on my letter, I
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  satisfied myself that I had not been dreaming and was still
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  awake. I was near enough to touch her,
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  had it been physically possible, and noted her features,
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  expression, and details of her dress, et cetera.
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  She appeared as if she were alive, Her eyes look kindly and
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  perfectly naturally into mine, her skin was so perfectly
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  lifelike that I could see the glow or moisture in the surface,
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  and on the whole there was no change in her appearance from
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  when she was alive. Now comes the most remarkable
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  confirmation of my statement, which cannot be doubted by those
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  who know what I state actually occurred.
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  This visitation, or whatever you may want to call it, so
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  impressed me that I took the next train home, and in the
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  presence of my parents and others, I related what had
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  occurred. My father, a man of rare good
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  sense and very practical, was inclined to ridicule me, as he
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  saw how earnestly I believed what I stated.
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  But he too was amazed later on, when I told them of the bright
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  red line or scratch on the right hand side of my sister's face,
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  which I distinctly had seen. When I mentioned this, my mother
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  rose trembling to her feet, and nearly fainted away.
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  And as soon as she had sufficiently recovered herself
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  possession, with tears streaming down her face, she exclaimed
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  that I had indeed seen my sister, as no living mortal but
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  herself was aware of that scratch which she had made while
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  doing some little act of kindness after my sister's
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  death. She said she remembered how well
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  pained she was to think that she should have unintentionally
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  marred the features of her dead daughter, and that, unknown to
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  all, she had carefully obliterated all traces of the
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  slight scratch with the help of powder, et cetera, and that she
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  had never mentioned it to a human being from that day to
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  this. Yet I saw the scratch as bright
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  as if just made. Confirmatory statements were
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  obtained from the narrator's father and brother, his mother
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  having died in the interval. The end.
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  Spooky, huh? I love these holiday stories and
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  I love that some of the old language is still used in these.
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  Sinecure, Soto, Voce, and even the drummer.
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  As someone going around selling stuff, I'm enjoying these and
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  look forward to bringing you more.
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  And if you want something else creepy, I suggest going over to
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  Tebby Tebby Pod and listening to Ethan tell you about creepy
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  monsters from the Philippines. Thank you.
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  Happy Halloween and good night.