Berengaria's Best: The Ultimate Short Story Collection

Strange Occurrences at Moddlington Hall*

The following excerpt(s) are from pages 143-45 of a dog-eared copy of "The Stately Homes and Halls of Somerset" by Nigel Davies, League of Local Historians, Midsummer Norton, 1954.

"The only thing worthy of an hour's visit to the quaint, but otherwise architecturally unexceptional 16th century Moddlington Hall (M.H.), is, besides the vegetable garden, a small collection of ancient artefacts acquired during the Victorian and Edwardian periods. . .(This collection) is where we must pause to make mention of a series of curious incidents that occurred there in the spring of 1903. Readers of this work will have noticed that I have not included any sensationalistic 'ghost stories' in these entries, as this is a work of serious scholarship. However, this particular incident bears noting due to the impact it had on local legend and the current reputation of M.H.. . ."

"In the late winter of 1903, Henry, the youngest son of Reginald, Lord Moddlington, returned from extended travels in the Middle East, bringing with him certain trinkets of mild historical interest which he had purchased at bazaars, most notably in Egypt.

These trinkets were displayed in the roomy, luxurious guest salon on the ground floor of M. H., but were soon largely forgotten as they were neither impressive to look at, nor made of gold or jewels.

A young charwoman by the name of Gwen was the first to report unsettling goings-on in the salon to the then head butler, Mr Wyman. Mr Wyman, a sober man, gave the servant's reports no credit, telling her to 'stop that nonsense and get on with the work she was paid to do'.

Gwen roundly refused, citing that, each morning when she entered to clean the fire grate, the chairs in the salon would all be turned towards the windows, that certain paintings had been taken down and rehung in different places and at times, finger trails could also be seen in the ash of the fireplace. She was convinced this was the work of malevolent spirits.

An older local servant by the name of Mrs Gramm, who was not given to such flights of fancy, was forthwith assigned the task of cleaning the salon. She quickly confirmed what the terrified young Gwen had reported: furniture was constantly being moved about and ash trailed out from the hearth by what looked like human hands.

Mrs Gramm, an inquisitive woman, soon became determined to get to the bottom of the 'mischief' and with Mr Wyman's blessing, she began a series of experiments to locate the cause of, and put an end to, the disturbances. One of these experiments included temporarily removing the historical collection to different rooms on the ground floor.

It was when she removed the Egyptian trinkets did the strange nightly moving of the furniture find an end -- only to be taken up again in the room where the trinkets were now displayed -- and Mr Wyman saw himself forced to bring the matter to Lord Moddlington's attention if further steps were to be taken.

The conversation is said to have been largely one of good-natured humour on the Lord's end and red-faced embarrassment on the butler's. The result was, however, that Henry Moddlington, who was then at Oxford, agreed to ask an acquaintance in Archaeology to come and give the artefacts a looking over, if only to calm the minds of the servants and put an end to idle rumour spreading in the village that M.H. was ghost-riddled.

Upon his arrival a few weeks later, the acquaintance, an earnest young scholar by the name of Harrow, listened to the servant's reports with a faint, indulgent smile as one uses with blabbering children.

According to the story, the smile -- and colour -- soon drained from his face when he identified two crudely sculpted, green-glazed statuettes in the collection as ushabti figures. These small statues' faces and hands were only cursorily moulded and their bodies shaped rather like swaddled mummies. In their hands they held what looked like primitive ploughshares.

Mr Harrow informed the astonished group of listeners nervously gathered around him, (among them Lord Reginald and Henry) that the statuettes were placed in tombs and meant to magically come to life to serve their masters in The Beyond, mainly in farming. Yes, unfortunately, he had to confirm to the startled residents of M.H. that the figures were indeed representations of ghost servants.

At this, Gwen was said to have screamed and Mrs Gramm to have slapped both hands to her ruddy cheeks and exclaimed 'I did always have the notion I was being watched and copied as I worked! That would explain it'.

It was clear that the figures had to go, and young Mr Harrow was again pressed for his knowledge and advice. Selling the figures was keenly discussed, as were boxing them and hiding them in the cellar or burying them in the forest. The staff were against destroying or burning their tiny ancient colleagues out of a feeling of solidarity with their ghostly plight.

It was Mr Wyman who offered the solution by sagely pointing out that if the ancient ghosts were servants meant to farm, they should be moved out to the fields and allowed to get on with it. Once again, Mr Harrow was called upon, and he did as he was asked, hiding the ushabti in a location appropriate to their original purpose near the extensive manor vegetable patch that very afternoon.

Today, M.H. has lost its reputation of being haunted, but the size and impressiveness of its vegetables is, incontestably, the envy of all Somerset. Local legend states that a Moddlington carrot, cabbage or aubergine has graced the winner's table at every Garden Day Fair, draped with a first-prize ribbon, ever since the day the Egyptian ghosts took up residence in the fields.

To what this is due, is left to the discretion of the reader. The writer believes it to be humbug."