by Tim Rayborn
Her Majesty’s Theater, London
The current building dates from the late 1890s, though there has been a theater on the site since 1705. The modern theater has been hosting Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical The Phantom of the Opera since 1986. Curiously, there is one audience member that keeps returning. The spirit of a certain Shakespearian actor with the wonderful name of Herbert Beerbohm Tree has been spotted numerous times since the 1970s at various locations, including stairs, wardrobe, and backstage. One actor playing the role of the Phantom noted that he once felt a strange presence standing behind him in his dressing room but saw nothing. Patrons have reported that doors to box seats open by themselves, and that the temperature drops unexpectedly. Tree was a manager for the theater at the turn of the twentieth century, but why he should choose to return in modern times is unknown.
Place de l’Opéra, Paris
Speaking of The Phantom of the Opera, the Place, completed in 1875, was the inspiration for and the setting of Gaston Leroux’s 1910 novel, which inspired movies such as the classic Lon Chaney silent film from 1925 and Lloyd Webber’s musical. Leroux noted in a famous quote about Erik, his phantom:
The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.
Based on this comment, some believe that the Place itself is haunted (though the management dismisses this notion), and there are some strange stories from the vicinity if not the venue itself. Locals describe one ghost as that of an elderly woman who roams the streets near the opera house. Legend says that she committed suicide when her husband abandoned her for a much younger woman, and that now her spirit wanders eternally, never able to find peace or happiness.
How many more theaters and concert halls out there have similar tales to tell?
Music from beyond
The flautist in Emmitsburg Cemetery
In the town of Emmitsburg, Maryland, some say that a ghostly annual tradition makes itself known at Christmas. The story begins in the early nineteenth century, when German musician and composer Casper Dielman came to America. He enjoyed success in his career, including composing inaugural music for American presidents and directing orchestras in major cities like New York and Baltimore. Taking up a place at Mount Saint Mary’s College, he settled into a life of teaching. He had hoped that his son Larry might follow in his musical footsteps, but the latter, while showing some musical talent, was never the prodigy his father had hoped for, instead becoming a grocer and preferring the banjo—as one does.
After some personal tragedies, Larry reconsidered his rejection of his father’s music. First Larry’s wife abandoned him, and he became sad, lonely, and withdrawn. Then his father passed away in the 1880s, and Larry, having rediscovered the flute Casper had once given him, became determined to learn to play it. At Christmas he went to his father’s grave and played as a tribute, attracting the attention of the locals. The ritual became an annual tradition, with townspeople following Larry, Pied Piper–style, to the grave. This continued until 1922, the last year that Larry made his pilgrimage. He was found unconscious in the snow, died the next spring, and was buried next to his father. So it ended, apparently.
However, as late as the 1970s some locals swore that they continued to hear the ghostly music of the flute coming from the cemetery each year at Christmas. One recalled vividly hearing sleigh bells, the sounds of people, and above it all, a flute that made dogs howl. Did Larry continue his annual tribute to his father to atone for disappointing him?
The musical ghost of Monaghan Hall
This grand building in Spokane, Washington, is a part of Gonzaga University, Bing Crosby’s alma mater (though he has nothing to do with this story). Originally the private home of wealthy nineteenth-century businessman James Monaghan, the building is now used by the university’s music department. It has been the source of a number of chilling stories, especially in the 1970s. Some experienced the familiar ghostly activity of footsteps, locked doors found open, power outages, and shapes appearing in the upstairs windows when viewed from outside. Rumors circulated of terrible things happening there, such as a student committing suicide by hanging. Monaghan himself does not seem to be the cause of the hauntings, though there were whispers of photos of his coffin in the presence of upside-down crucifixes; one of the photos was said to be impossible to burn. This is classic horror story fare, but no evidence has been found to prove it.
Various people experienced far creepier encounters in the house, such as growling sounds from the basement or the feeling of being choked by icy cold hands. There is also a story from a live-in caretaker who believed that something was subtly encouraging him to hang himself, perhaps the ghost of the student who had met that unfortunate fate.
Whatever haunts the hall, it seems to have musical talent. A cleaning lady once reported that in November 1974, she had to return to the building one night, having forgotten an item. She found the front door unlocked and heard organ music, a simple melody repeated over and over. The door to the organ room was locked, and when she opened it, she saw that the room was empty but that the keys were playing by themselves. Not long after, a music professor heard phantom flute music wafting through the halls but could find no source. One day, he was absentmindedly tapping out a melody on a piano when the cleaner confronted him and told him that he was playing the tune she had heard on the organ. He then realized that it was the same song he had heard the ghostly flute playing.
Additional stories circulated that an exorcism, or at least holy rites, was performed in the building and that things quieted down afterward—or maybe not. A burning smell was noticed without a source, a heavy blackboard on wheels apparently moved of its own accord, and various other ghostly things continued, but no one was hurt, and the phenomena seemed to ease up over the years. Is there an angry musical ghost in the hall? If nothing else, it makes a grand story to tell each new crop of incoming freshmen at the beginning of the academic year.
The ghostly piano of Gardner Lake
A curious legend has grown up about Gardner Lake in Connecticut. During a fierce winter in the 1890s, the owners of a certain home near the water had what they thought was a brilliant idea. They wanted to move the house to the other side of the lake and thought that the frozen February weather would give them a perfect opportunity. So in a splendidly stupid undertaking, the house and all of its contents were moved to the shore, lifted up onto sled-like structures, and slid out onto the ice. From there, horses were supposed to pull it for an easy trip over to their desired new location.
Except, of course, that’s not what happened at all. Once out on the ice, the movers soon realized that the home was far too heavy for mere frozen water to bear. It got bogged down, began to tilt, and the ice underneath it began to crack. Most of the family’s belongings were hastily retrieved, but the house itself was doomed. Tourists came from far and wide to view with amusement the home that was now slowly sinking. Reports say that it actually remained afloat for some time, even after the ice melted, but eventually gravity took its toll and the whole thing descended into the depths, finding a watery grave at the bottom of the lake.
An oddball story, to be sure, but what makes it mysterious is that over the years, many people—particularly those in boats out on the lake—have reported hearing a faint, ghostly piano. The source of the music is difficult to determine but seems to be coming from the water itself. It turns out that a piano was one of the casualties of the sinking; it went down with the house and could not be saved. No one seems to have died in this misadventure, so why a watery ghost would be playing a submerged piano remains a mystery, but many insist that they have heard it. Maybe it’s the musical fis
h we met at the beginning of Part II.
The ghost of Chopin at the “Honky Chateau”
Chopin has had quite an afterlife, it seems, what with being buried mostly in Paris and partly in Warsaw, while also finding time to dictate new music to an unassuming English woman. Another account says that he may have spent some postmortem time at the “Honky Chateau,” more formally known as Château d’Hérouville, in the Oise Valley north of Paris. Chopin may have resided here, while still alive, with George Sand.
After years of neglect, the manor house was remade into Strawberry Studios in 1962 and became a place where rock and pop bands recorded some of their most legendary works; the list of stars includes Elton John (from whom the studio gained its nickname), Iggy Pop, Fleetwood Mac, Jethro Tull, the Bee Gees, and the late David Bowie, among others. During a stay in 1973, Bowie and his producers felt strongly that Chopin and Sand were still there, and when taking a tour of the building Bowie refused to sleep in the master bedroom, being completely unnerved by it; a portion of the room seemed darker and colder than the rest. One of the producers took the bedroom instead and was woken up at night by someone shaking his shoulder, but saw no one. Perhaps Bowie was right? The studio closed its doors in 1985, but efforts are now under way to restore it again, with or without Chopin’s approval.
A spectral soprano in Handel’s house?
The London home where George Frederic Handel lived for thirty-six years until his death seems to have been host to a bit of supernatural activity. The house was occupied for generations after his death; at one point Jimi Hendrix resided next door for a short time. During renovations in 2001, in preparation for opening it as a restored eighteenth-century home and museum dedicated to Handel, one of the trust fund-raisers had a hair-raising experience while on the premises.
He described how, while measuring for curtains, he felt the air become “thick” and saw a shape resembling a woman hovering near him. He described it as being like an after-image on one’s retinas from looking at the sun for too long, but felt that it was not menacing. Others noticed a lingering smell of perfume in the composer’s old bedroom. It turns out that Hendrix also claimed to have seen a ghost in his next-door flat during his stay, and after all, what are walls to a ghost?
The identity of this apparition was a mystery, as Handel was not known to have entertained women in his home. But people assumed that it was someone from Handel’s time, and the candidates were narrowed down to either Faustina Bordoni or Francesca Cuzzoni, two sopranos who vied for roles in his operas. Perhaps one or the other was not at rest, still waiting for the composer’s next work?
In any case, a priest was called to perform an exorcism, because the trust could not decide whether having a ghost in their newly opened museum was a benefit or something that might literally scare some potential visitors away. Also, since many valuable historical items were going on display, they didn’t want to risk a supernatural vandal causing any harm, apparently confusing a ghost with a poltergeist. In any case, the house seems silent now, so perhaps the restless Baroque soprano has sung her last aria?
6
Nursery Rhymes: the Good, the Bad, and the Downright Awful
Our collection of nursery rhymes is beloved. The very name suggests simple poems that are suitable for the youngest of children. Many grew up with their parents singing these songs and reciting these rhymes; they are used to comfort tiny babies and send them off to sleep or to entertain toddlers with colorful, silly stories. They seem about as far away from the strange and the gruesome as it gets.
So, why might many of them have absolutely appalling backstories? The answer lies partially in the fact that some may have been cryptic political commentaries and satires, while others were perhaps moral fables to keep wayward children in line, like some of the equally dark Grimm’s fairy tales. Over time, the original meanings became garbled or forgotten, and what we are left with is the often-surreal imagery and what sounds to us like nonsense; rather like Internet comments and discussions. What better way to disguise an agenda, a political attack, or some other statement you’d rather keep hidden?
It’s important to note that there are scholars who reject all of the following interpretations on the basis that there isn’t enough evidence to make a definitive case for them. Modern folks, they argue, are reading too much into simple silly rhymes and looking for meanings that were never there. They might be right, but where’s the fun in that? In any case, here are some of the darker examples.
Three Blind Mice
A version of this poem and its tune appeared in a book of rounds put together by the Jacobean composer Thomas Ravenscroft in 1609. A round is a canonic song, like “Row, row, row your boat,” where one singer begins the melody, and at the second line, a new singer begins the tune at the top, and so on, revealing hidden harmonies in an otherwise simple one-melody song. This particular story might refer not to mice being chased by a farmer’s angry wife, but rather to three unfortunate folks who took part in a conspiracy against Mary I, Queen of England, and met a bad end. As Henry VIII’s eldest daughter, she was a devout Catholic. After the death of Henry and then his very Protestant son and heir, Edward VI, she set about doing everything she could to restore Catholicism to England, including burning Protestants at the stake. Nearly three hundred perished in this manner between 1553 and her death in 1558, earning her the unpleasant nickname of Bloody Mary. The round in Ravenscroft’s collection could have been a bit of political propaganda. He may have written the words and melody himself. “Cutting off their tails” may have been a metaphor for the persecution, or perhaps even a reference to a grisly form of torture before the victims were burned.
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary
This rhyme may also refer to Bloody Mary. We can easily see how she could be considered “quite contrary,” and the garden may refer to her lack of heirs, her attempt to impose the Catholic faith again on England, or even the graveyard of her victims. The “pretty maids all in a row” may refer to her miscarriages, buried in the ground. The lack of any living children is what allowed her sister Elizabeth to ascend to the throne after Mary’s death. Others have speculated that this poem refers to Mary, Queen of Scots, or it could refer to Catholicism itself and its veneration of the Virgin Mary. The cockleshells have been described as everything from the shell badges worn by pilgrims after completing their journey to the shrine of Saint James in Spain (Santiago de Compostela) to genital-torture devices used by Mary I’s inquisitors—there’s a lovely thought. The rhyme does not seem to appear before the eighteenth century, though, so all of these speculations may be wrong, or the rhyme could have been some other political commentary.
Jack and Jill
Everyone knows this strange and violent little rhyme. Two children go up a hill to fetch water and Jack falls, breaking his head, or his neck, or something. Not to be left out, Jill takes a tumble after he does. There have been many attempts to source the meaning of the story, but the evidence is inconclusive. We do know that “Jack” was a kind of Everyman character in English drama. Indeed, Shakespeare even mentions a Jack and Jill in both A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Love’s Labour’s Lost, where they appear as archetypal young lovers. So the nursery rhyme may be nothing more than another scene starring a pair of stock characters.
There are two more interesting interpretations, however. The first is that the rhyme refers to an attempt by King Charles I to regulate taxes on drink sizes. A “jack” is a half-pint and a “gill” is a quarter-pint. Charles attempted to reduce the volume but keep the tax the same, which was obviously unpopular and was vetoed by Parliament, hence “Jack fell down” and “Jill came tumbling after.” Of course, after the Civil War the king’s own crown was “broken.” Another fanciful story says that the rhyme refers to the executions of Louis XIV and Marie Antoinette. Jack’s crown (head) was broken, and Jill’s head came tumbling after. This delightfully gruesome interpretation would be perfect were it not for the fact that the rhyme’s publication prece
ded their executions by nearly thirty years.
London Bridge Is Falling Down
This ever-popular tune seems to date from the nineteenth century, but the poem can be traced to the seventeenth and may even refer to something far older—medieval, in fact. There are bridge songs from other countries, including the traditional German rhyme Die Magdeburger Brück, the traditional Danish Knippelsbro Går Op og Ned, the fifteenth-century French Sur le Pont d’Avignon, and the fourteenth-century Italian Le porte, any of which may have influenced the London poem.
As for the meaning of the rhyme, one theory suggests that it was a reference to the destruction of an early version of London Bridge by Olaf II Haraldsson of Norway during a Viking raid in about 1014. There are references to this event in Viking poetry, but not in any Anglo-Saxon sources, so some scholars doubt that it happened; the Vikings may have just been bragging. On the other hand, the English may have been hugely embarrassed about losing their bridge to a bunch of Northmen.
Another interpretation suggests that the rhyme refers to a superstitious belief that the bridge was held up by human sacrifices, possibly those of children. This idea was advanced by a folklorist named Alice Gomme in the late nineteenth century, but there is neither cultural nor archeological evidence to back it up.