I think everyone is aware that I don’t particularly like crowds of people, even Sundays when there aren’t so many. Well, it was only Saturday today, but Della was here, so it didn’t matter that much. I mean, if she wants to go somewhere, I usually give in; and she did today, to see a reputedly haunted location near Potters Bar, only about nine miles away as the crow flies, but further timewise when you have to wait for trains and buses. (The car’s in for a service at the moment).
Anyway, I had already told Della a week or two ago about a lady who had written to me from her old farmhouse in Potters Bar asking for advice about the sudden appearance of a ghostly figure in the house which had been making regular appearances and then suddenly disappearing. The lady in question had put this ‘ghostly activity’ down to the fact that, last year, some ground was being excavated at the rear of the house, when the surrounding ground had suddenly ‘collapsed’ to reveal a disused Jacobean well. It seemed to be about 60ft deep and torchlight clearly showed the old stone walls and the glimmer of black water at the bottom. She called in the local council who rapidly sealed the whole area off; but saying because of its historical value they would be sending in a team of experts to excavate further. She learned that the ground had once housed a much earlier dwelling of significant importance, and it seems the council were anxious to get ‘second opinions’ about the find on her property.
That was last year, and as far as I know the council are still in the process of evaluating the find.
However, I digress. Since the discovery of the well last November, the lady in question began to experience many ‘strange happenings’ around the farmhouse – especially at night. The temperature would often drop inexplicably; household objects would suddenly fall from shelves or sideboards at night; and more than once she swore to seeing the shadowy figure of a man in a broad brimmed hat, apparently watching her from the hallway through the open parlour door. In addition to this she began to frequently notice the strong smell of tobacco, especially when she ventured down into the cellar to fetch wood for her open fire.
At first she accepted all these strange occurrences in almost bewildered abandon; but after Christmas things apparently became decidedly worse, and she was awoken at night by the figure appearing in her bedroom, again watching her from the shadows. She contemplated approaching a priest for help and advice, but not being a particularly religious person had put off doing so.
She eventually decided to write to myself last month after reading one of my articles on the internet concerning other psychic investigations in the area some years ago. One of these in fact was near Welwyn Garden City, quite near Potters Bar, and being fairly local she decided to contact myself.
Apart from her letters, I had spoken to the lady on the phone, and subsequently received an invitation for tea at the farmhouse so we could discuss the matter further. I asked her if she would mind me bringing a friend of mine with me, a psychic, and hence the purpose of our visit there today.
That is the basic background anyway, and so Della and myself made our way towards Potters Bar about 11 o’clock this morning. We got there some 2 hours later. Della was aware that it would be a fairly long trip and so she insisted on packing up a few sandwiches for the bus ride in case I got hungry. She made all the sandwiches most thoughtfully, but of course I decided what should go in them!
As it transpired, the sandwiches were hardly necessary, as our hostess had laid on a high tea (complete with her own cucumber sandwiches and Victoria sponge).
The lady was very sincere in her concern about the unwanted phantom figure which, she was sure, had something to do with the accidental uncovering of the old well on her property. She had lived there undisturbed for some 30 years prior to this with nothing untoward at all – certainly not out of the ordinary – taking place there. She told us many things about this apparent haunting, not least that on one occasion when she ventured into the cellar (albeit reluctantly now) she had found an old briar pipe that was still full of smouldering ash. She had been alerted by an overwhelming sensation of burning tobacco wafting up from the old stone cellar, and discovered the pipe laying apparently unhidden, in full view on the flagstones. She was about to pick it up as evidence of her experiences, when the temperature immediately dropped and she heard a distinct moaning noise from a darkened corner. She left the cellar immediately – disregarding the pipe – and told us she had not been down there since.
Della and myself asked for permission to go into the cellar, and eventually persuaded her to accompany us. There was no sign of the pipe itself, but certainly a distinct atmosphere of cold and damp emanated from the area. Of course, this may be only too ‘logical’ considering the large cellar was some 30ft below the ground floor. But it was more than that; you could almost feel invisible eyes watching you from the dimly lit corners, and we were most relieved when we eventually returned to the ground floor.
Our trip may only have been fairly brief, but it was very enlightening from a psychic point of view. Could the discovery of the old well have been instrumental in triggering off some form of psychic activity? Or was its discovery perhaps mere coincidence? The council apparently saw fit to mount a further historical investigation into the ground’s collapse. Whatever comes of that, of course, would pertain more to a archaeological line of research.
But as far as the lady of the farmhouse is concerned, she is convinced that there could be ‘something’ that has been ‘loosed’ from that old well.
We have obtained permission from her to spend an all night vigil in the farmhouse (and the cellar if necessary) to try and get some evidence of this paranormal activity. To this end we will be returning to the farmhouse shortly with others. I do not know what the conclusion will be, but we will be sure to inform everyone about any pertinent results in this present investigation.
Well Della and I returned to London tonight, but no sandwiches this time! It was late. Around 9.30pm. But Della cooked me one of her special meals. Although I have to say, we were both relieved to be back on familiar territory!