|Posted: 22/January/2006 at 12:28pm | IP Logged
This story was sent to us by Mr. T. Stokes...
THE GHOST OF ETON MANOR
“The lady In the mirror”
When in my teens it was very much the custom to have a motor bike, and to individualise it with colour and bolt on bits, almost as a rite of passage,
And mine was no exception, it was perhaps an essential stage in a growing to maturity, luckily maturity seemed to pass me by. !
One day, all those years ago, in the land of ghost’s, London England, a friend whose father had an engineering firm agreed to make an alteration to my bike on one of the lathes.
As I, from inside the warm factory, watched the lathe slowly turning I casually looked out of the window, and was surprised to see an old house, surrounded by new factories, and not really visible from the road, my friend informed me it had been empty for years as it was haunted, and he seemed tense and afraid of it,
this intrigued me all the more, and I pressed him to come and investigate.
After some considerable encouragement he agreed to come and take a look, it was a fine detached house, with pointed, fancy gothic style windows, and a fine Georgian doorcase, but all now in a state of decay.
On walking around the house we found a small pantry window, that with a little brute force we were able to open and squeeze inside, it was indeed a grand house in its day, with wood panelling and deep coving still largely intact, our voices echoing in the large rooms with their high ceilings,
It amazed me that there were still some items of dust covered old furniture, still in the house, and these were of some value,
But what really caught my eye was a full length mirror positioned right by the front door which I coveted, so taking a small screw driver from my pocket I began to unscrew the mirror, and even decided where it was to go in my room at home.
It was with great difficulty we managed to bring it through the pantry window, and begin the journey homewards.
Having spent some time in re-homing the long mirror, to the wall in my bedroom, where it looked a treat, I decided it was time for sleep,
No problems so far-
It was in the early hours that I awoke in an instant, in fact sharply awake, and knew something was not right,
And as I lay without moving I could hear a rustling sound coming from the mirror behind me, I was determined not to move, but to be aware of all that occurred.
As I lay in the darkness the rustling sound came over to my bed and stopped beside it, in realising that the rustling was the sounds of a floor length old style dress, as worn long ago, and from the height of her breathing and the smell of youthful perfume, I could tell it was a tall woman , who was not that old..
She stood there a fair while just looking at me, she seemed to need comforting in some way.
I felt she knew I was awake and just feigning sleep, suddenly she turned and went back to the mirror, and the heavy perfume, and attendant deep sense of sadness was instantly gone.
But what I could not understand was why when she walked, it was as if she had on a shoe, and a heavy clog, the sounds were one step loud one step soft.
Then totally unafraid but curious and excited, I lapsed into a deep sleep.
All next day I kept thinking of my nocturnal visitor, it made my day at work seem difficult, and I could not wait to ask my friend if he could shed any light on my strange night time experience.
So that evening when he picked me up in his car I immediately told of the happenings and asked him what he knew.
His face was white, and he gripped the steering wheel with such an anxious tightness. that his knuckles were as white as his face,
He exclaimed “I should have told you, the lady you met was a famous society beauty of her day, she was instantly recognisable from her height and her expensive long embroidered dresses, what happened was that she had just left her front door, when a startled horse and cart ran her down, taking off her leg, she was given a wooden one, which she was terribly conscious of, in fact she would dress in all her finery and go and look at herself by the front door, in the mirror in fact, which is now yours, but she was unable to go out, and she would just stay indoors with her sadness, the effect you heard, was of the one shoe and one clog, was the wooden leg and her own one”.
This explained so much, but I had to have one more look inside the deserted old house known as “Eton Manor”
Getting in again through the pantry window, we looked all over the house for any information on our “society lady,” and it was while we were looking around the cellar that the strangest thing of all happened, it was with the light of a cigarette lighter and a box of matches that we found some Georgian horse brasses in very poor shape, although I still have the brass buckle that adorns the girth strap on a horse, to keep up my trousers to this day, and then there it was, a wooden leg, the wooden leg, and as we picked it up, the small door to the cellar banged shut, we whispered to one another “a gust of wind” ? in an enclosed house, not really possible.
No matter how we tried the door was jammed fast.
We were trapped down in the dark musty cellar for a while, and we chatted about the beautiful lady, who had the sweet perfume, and thick aura of sadness, who we felt was quite close, when the door just wafted open, the woman’s heavy perfume instantly gone we gladly made our escape, it was only when reaching the other side of the pantry window that we could breathe in the relief of the fresh air and sunshine, and saying goodbye to our sad lady friend, and Eton Manor, we ran quickly away
I often wonder of the tall unhappy beautiful lady, that came to make contact that night, and hope that I was able mentally to give some comfort to a friend from the mirror, who just happened to be dead.
T. Stokes copyright 2001
Taking a scientific approach to investigate the paranormal.