Enigma of Borley Rectory

by Harry Ludlum

  An occurrence that has been related many times before was that of the movement, under odd circumstances, of a 50 lb bag of coal for a distance of about a foot and a half. Its movement was apparent from the stain left upon the floor from where the bag had originally been placed.

  Pencil marks continued to appear though they were not of the same quality or quantity as before. However, the fact that this continued to happen after the departure of the Foysters and in the absence of Harry Price tends to considerably weaken the accusations that Price was responsible for them.

  After Price's death, one investigator claimed that during a summertime inspection of the Rectory, with Harry Price present, marks kept appearing as they made their rounds, but that on the last tour of inspection he got behind Price and kept him in his sight in the lamplight and, to quote: 'We never found another mark.' Unfortunately for the critics, as Robert J. Hastings was to point out later, at the time of this last inspection, in the early hours of a summer morning, it would in fact have been daylight, making nonsense of the claim about moving into a position with the lamp in such a way as to put Price under visual control. Under conditions of broad daylight, Harry Price would have had little or no chance to play games of that sort without being caught.

  Reports from the various members of Price's team, now in the files at the Harry Price Library, indicate a number of points about this period in the Rectory's history, which are worth looking at against the background of the often-hostile criticism of Price's handling of the Borley case.

  Opinions varied considerably among the investigators, some expressing the view that there was nothing of significance about the Rectory, others reporting numerous happenings that did indeed show every sign of being most peculiar.

  There were other contradictions. Mr Mark Kerr-Pearse, for example, mentioned finding many traces of mice in the Rectory, whilst others stated just the opposite, saying that they had particularly noticed no traces of mice, the very presence of which could, of course, lead to a good many scrabbling and scratching noises. When considering this point, the reader should remember particularly the one comment about the Rectory that was common to virtually everybody who stayed in it, that it was an extremely still and soundless house, unnaturally so, the more so in an empty building with such a large area of wooden flooring and joists.

  On the question of mice, Price himself stated that he had found no trace of mice in the Rectory, which is quite possible at the particular times at which he was present. The fact that others did find traces does not prove the view of some critics that mice were responsible for many of the noises heard in the Rectory.

  Investigators also mentioned the apparent fact, as did Price himself, that access to the cellars was feasible, if risky and dangerous, via one of the well covers in the courtyard, and though lockable, the cellar door could be jemmied open from the inside. However, forcing open that door, especially in a house that was largely empty, would in itself cause noise, and consequently an intruder would have had little or no security against being discovered by any investigators that might be present.

  Interestingly, some investigators, having experienced curious occurrences, also stated that in their opinion nobody could have got into the Rectory during their turns of duty without their knowing about it; and furthermore, if somebody wished to fake phenomena, then to break in when nobody was in the Rectory (except to plant phenomena, something for which there is no proven evidence) would be largely a waste of time, since phenomena in the presence of other people would be far more telling than to play to an empty house.

  Another problem that occasionally came to light was that when some investigations were in progress, especially in the Rectory garden, the cottage tenant Mr Arbon was inclined to appear on the scene to see what was happening, thereby causing problems for those watching the Nun's Walk.

  One investigator went as far as to ask Price to get Mr Arbon not to enter the property when investigators were at hand. Strictly speaking, Arbon's only function was to act as a key holder and to check the credentials of members of Price's investigating team arriving at Borley for their turns of duty. Apart from these people, and of course, Price himself from time to time, the only other persons allowed in the place were the Rector and occasionally the odd parishioner attending parish meetings with the Rector.

  When members of the BBC arrived, derogatory comments made by Gordon Glover about the state of Mrs Foyster's mind during her time at the Rectory and the capabilities of Price's team of investigators misfired in one of those unfortunate but generally inconclusive misunderstandings that occurred from time to time throughout Price's career. Price unfortunately took offence at Glover's remarks, and the latter had to go to some lengths to explain what he had meant. The writer is of the opinion that too many critics have allowed these occasional heated disputes to get in the way of a clear assessment of reported phenomena, which after all, were the focal point of the investigation.

  The big mistake made by so many people since has been that of taking too much notice of Price's sometimes volatile temper and overt sensitivity, and not enough of the Rectory itself and what was occurring in it. Price's somewhat argumentative disposition often caused others to take a dislike to him, thus forming a far from ideal background to a fair assessment of his work.

  There is quite a lot of evidence to suggest that several incidents at the Rectory during the investigation team period 1937/38 were attacked by later critics from a position of prejudice, and that therefore these criticisms cannot really be seen as objective. As Robert Hastings demonstrates in his work on the case, the records of supposed evidence against Harry Price and his handling of the investigation team at Borley Rectory are littered with misquotes and misleading accusations and rather too much tactical withholding of verbatim material by people who have sought to accuse Price of that 'offence'.

  The 1937/38 period of investigations into the mysteries at Borley Rectory, which Price genuinely wished to be the most extensive, really turned out in some ways to be the most disappointing, but I am certainly not satisfied that the critics have proved this to be the result of Price's handling of the period. There seems, for one thing, to be another no less interesting point that has been rather ignored, and this concerns the nature of the disturbances and in particular the level thereof, in relation to the periods of occupancy of the Rectory and the numbers of people living in it at any one time. This aspect of the disturbances will be looked at in more detail shortly, but for the present we will continue with happenings that were reported during the investigation team period.

  On one occasion, the Rev. Henning and his wife, and Mark Kerr-Pearse conducted a séance in the Rectory and in response there came from the direction of the kitchen a series of thumping noises which proceeded along the passageway towards the Base Room (library) where the séance sitters were, but as they stood up to see what might be causing the noise it stopped.

  During Kerr-Pearse's sojourn at the Rectory, he found a piece of rotten timber in one of the fireplaces, the odd thing being that whereas the chimney was badly in need of sweeping, there was no trace of soot on the piece of wood.

  Mark Kerr-Pearse was also once locked in the library. He was alone in the house but fortunately the key was on the inside, otherwise he would have had to decamp via the French windows.

  About this time, there was a repetition of the noise heard by the Coopers in the stable cottage during the First World War, namely a tremendous crash, as of pots and pans or crockery being thrown around or smashed.

  Another odd occurrence concerned the installation of an electrical contact breaker, which had been made by Dr H. F. Bellamy. It was placed on the dining room mantelpiece beneath some books and was so designed that if anything on it were moved a bell would ring. The operation of this gadget was carefully checked and the books put in place, after which it was left untouched while Dr Bellamy and those accompanying him moved off to examine the rest of the Rectory. Just before 1am they were disturbed from their rest in th
e Blue Room by the response unit's bell ringing. The sound stopped suddenly before they could reach the dining room, but when they entered they found that the books had all been moved, one of them right off the contact. What was even more odd was that with the contact upset by the moving of the books the bell should have kept ringing. Instead, it stopped quite suddenly.

  It may interest readers to learn that there had been more than one occasion on which there has been odd interference with electrical equipment during investigations at Borley.

  I have learned of two such incidents that occurred long after all trace of the Rectory itself had vanished, and were it not for this fact the reader could well be forgiven for thinking that Dr Bellamy's contact breaker was malfunctioning. In 1961, during an investigation at Borley, both battery torches and car headlamps all failed without obvious case. More recently, during an investigation involving the adjacent church, a tape recorder cut out of its own accord. On one occasion just after the war, a motorbike rider passing the Rectory corner had his engine cut out. Upon checking to see the reason, he found that something had turned off the ignition.

  During a visit by Mr W. S. Hammond to the Rectory with some colleagues, they heard what sounded like a door being closed somewhere in the house, three times in one night. Investigation failed to reveal a cause for these noises. Even more mysterious is the fact that visitors to the shell of the Rectory after the fire also heard doors closing, on one occasion with a loud crash as if someone had slammed a door in a fit of temper!

  The unusual pencil marks continued to appear and it was during this period that the marks resembling the Prince of Wales' feathers appeared.

  Another investigator, Mr Burden, heard dragging sounds that seemed to be coming from one of the upstairs corridors and Dr C. M. Joad, later of Brains Trust fame, witnessed the appearance of fresh pencil marks.

  The investigators also experienced curious odours in the house, under circumstances or conditions for which no explanation could be found. Mr Hammond, mentioned earlier, noticed a nasty odour like that from a lavatory; whilst two RAF officers, Mr Carter-Jonas and Mr Caunter, noticed a smell as of incense whilst standing outside the Rectory, this particular occasion being after Price's own tenancy had ended and the Rectory was closed and locked.

  There were other small incidents no less interesting, such as the moving of a little pin box, originally found by Colonel Westland who left it where it was found, in one of the two little cupboards off the passageway leading to the garden from the hall.

  Loud thumps were heard coming from the empty Blue Room, and there were other sundry knocks and taps. On one occasion, a penetrating wailing noise was heard.

  Mark Kerr-Pearse, during a turn of duty at the Rectory, heard the safety-gate at the top of the stairs open, in spite of the fact that it had been properly fastened. He also found a 'dried-out' frog outside the drawing room, which was definitely not there a short while before. All doors and windows in the house were shut at the time.

  Further pencil marks were found about this time, including the letters 'MA'. It is rather interesting to note this, in conjunction with the later graphological opinion of the wall writing.

  More bumps and thuds, bangs and metallic sounds were also heard by various members of Price's observation team during this period.

  Colonel Westland discovered a tatty, blue serge lady's coat in the Rectory and the little pin box that he found in the hall cupboard was later found to have moved from its marked position on two occasions. It was Colonel Westland who, in conjunction with Sidney Glanville, took several of the interior pictures of the Rectory, including some photographs of the wall markings.

  S. G. Welles, from University College, spent some time in the Blue Room and saw a luminous patch appear on the ceiling near the window ... and watched it move! The other observers tried to duplicate the phenomenon with torches, but nothing they could shine into the room from outside produced anything like the curious light that Welles saw. For one thing, all attempts to reproduce it resulted in clearly defined shadows, whilst the luminous appearance witnessed by Welles produced no shadow at all.

  In December 1937, Messrs Burden and Stainton from Christchurch College, Oxford, visited the Rectory and Burden recalled that the chapel (the former bathroom) had 'an evil feel to it'. He also reported a feeling of being watched whilst in one of the rooms, certainly not the first time that this had been noticed by observers. Dr Joseph mentioned finding the house 'repellent'.

  The Rev. Henning reported another very interesting re-occurrence of an old phenomenon to Harry Price in November 1937, in a letter, which is reproduced here from Price's first book, The Most Haunted House in England.

  'Dear Mr Price

  I thought you might be interested to know that a light has been appearing in the Rectory, and so far we cannot account for it. It was seen (a bright light) by Mr and Mrs Payne and they say it was from the window on the wing looking south (i.e. Room 11).

  It looks out towards the fields and is at the corner close to the garage covered way.

  The light was also seen by our man Herbert Mayes on the same night at a different window, the large one on the stairs. This can only be seen at one point on the road opposite the Tithe Barn at Borley Place.

  I have seen the Arbons and they say the place was all locked up on Monday night and no one there. Our maid also saw the light on Thursday night, but is rather vague about its position.

  Yours sincerely

  A. C. Henning'

  In October 1938, Miss Ethel Bull, writing to Sidney Glanville, related that a friend of hers, another parson, had 'nosed around outside the Rectory and heard a terrific crash like furniture being thrown about'. This was another interesting throwback to earlier years. Readers will recall that during the period that Guy Smith and his wife were lodging in Long Melford they visited the Rectory on one occasion and heard a frightful racket coming from within.

  At the time that Ethel Bull's friend reported a sound like furniture being hurled around, there was none in the Rectory, but at the time the Smiths heard the same noise, there was ... theirs! When they opened up the Rectory later and checked inside, they found their stored furniture had been thrown about all over the place!

  On May 9, 1938, Harry Price ended his occupancy of Borley Rectory, and he and Geoffrey Motion cleaned the place out before locking up and returning the keys to the Rev. Henning. It was on this occasion that they found the gold wedding ring.

  The final chapter of disturbances at Borley Rectory before the fire and the start of the Second World War was destined to be very short indeed!

  The Rectory was sold, out of church use, to Captain William Hart Gregson in the autumn of 1938, and in December he and his two sons, Anthony and Alan, took possession of it. They moved into the stable cottage, storing most of their belongings in the Rectory, which the present writer is convinced was to have a direct bearing on what was soon to happen.

  In the light of what I have discovered about the Captain, and particularly the information unearthed by young Richard Lee-van den Daele of Shipley, it will soon become apparent that the validation of what the Captain reported over the short period that he was in residence is questionable. There is evidence to suggest that he bought the Rectory with the intention of capitalising on its reputation, and not really to use it as a home. More details appear later.

  It has to be admitted though that the phenomena reported by Gregson does suggest a continuance of the disturbances that had been taking place in the Rectory virtually since it was built. Viewed in that light, one might give Gregson the benefit of the doubt.

  During that winter of late 1938 and early 1939, following a fall of snow, footprints were found in the grounds under seemingly curious circumstances. Even more peculiar was the discovery of carriage wheel tracks across the lawn leading from a place in the hedge that you could have hardly squeezed a wheelbarrow through, let alone a carriage!

  Then came the broken glass incident. The Captain and one of his boys
had been sorting their belongings in the Rectory hall. The lad, becoming thirsty, obtained a glass of water, drank some of it and left the glass on a bracket table in the hall, where it was then forgotten about. The following day, the glass was found broken in pieces and with no traces of water to be seen!

  During his residency, Gregson became concerned at the dangerous state of the small well in the Rectory cellar and an old heavy wooden door was found and placed over the well to seal it off. A day or so later, this was found lying several feet away.

  Then came the incident of the two dogs. Gregson had bought a dog, and on the first occasion, was coming into the rear of the Rectory with his dog when it yelped in terror at something not visible to the Captain, wrenched free and tore off, never to be recovered.

  Gregson replaced it with a second dog, but a short while later, the same thing happened again! The outcome of this is rarely recorded in print, but it is alleged that one of these dogs was later found wandering about in a crazed state and was promptly shot, whilst the other was apparently run over by a car and was found lying dead by the roadside.

  On the night of February 27-28, 1939, the end of Borley Rectory as an intact structure came suddenly, for the infamous pile caught fire. In spite of the efforts of the Sudbury Fire Brigade, the place was ruined beyond repair. During the blaze, a local constable insisted that two figures were standing watching the Rectory burn, whilst Gregson was certain that only he and the firemen were there. Villagers watching from the road also claimed to have seen two figures, but one of them just a blurred form, standing in one of the windows of the burning Rectory.

  By dawn on the morning of February 28, the Rectory, scene of so many weird and outlandish happenings, was a roofless smouldering mess, a tragic burned-out ruin!