And that entry of 27th June 1899 was, my friends, the last ever entry in Golightly’s casebook.

I must say, I was gripped.

Intrigued to find out what had transpired after Golightly’s troublesome night in the Blue Room, I started to dig around.

Reader, what I discovered has quite unsettled me.

I’ve transcribed below the police report, unearthed from the Akenfield Constabulary, as submitted by Inspector Roberts.

On [28/6/1899] I received an urgent call from Reverend Bond of the Rectory, Akenfield. I took Sergeant Rigley with me and we attended the Rectory.

We established that a Rev Johnathan Golightly, a guest at the Rectory and a college friend of the Reverend B had disappeared at some point the evening before.

Reverend B explained to me and the sergeant that they had searched the Rectory and its grounds, and the Reverend Golightly was nowhere to be found.

In a great state of agitation, the Reverend Bond explained that he had hesitated long before calling the station, and regretted that he had not informed us sooner.

Rigley and I were shown the room from which the Reverend Golightly had allegedly disappeared. A bedroom on the first floor of the rectory.

The door had been locked from the inside. The Reverend Bond informed me that after the Reverend Golightly did not appear for breakfast. The maid, a certain Alice Clarke had repeatedly knocked on the Reverend Golightly’s door.

By 11 o clock, both the Reverend Bond and Mrs Margaret Bond told me that they were somewhat concerned.

When Golightly didn’t make it down for breakfast, the house maid, Alice Clarke, had been sent up to knock on the Blue Room Door. There was no answer, and the door was locked from the inside.

Further knocking failed to rouse the Reverend Golightly.

Frederick Briggs, the gardener, was summoned to help. Briggs obtained a ladder and looked in at the window. He could see no sign of life in the room. After some further delay, Briggs was asked to force an entry, which he did.

The Reverend B informed me that it must have been 2 pm when they discovered that the Reverend Golightly was not in the room.

Sergeant Rigley and I ascertained that the room had not been touched from 2 pm onwards. We confirmed what both Alice Clarke, Briggs and the Reverend and Mrs Bond told us: the bed had been slept in, the Reverend’s clothes were folded and placed on a chair near the bed.

The window was on the catch, and indeed, the drop was too perilous to consider a jump. No other points of exit from the room were discovered.

Some personal effects of Reverend Golightly have been retained, including his clothes, a diary and some documents.

Photo enclosed with the Police Report detailing Golightly’s mysterious disappearance.

I will organise a search of the area, and send to the village for men to assist in the dragging of ponds and other watercourses in the area.

Rigley helpfully suggested that we elicit the help of the Canadian troops who are stationed close by Akenfield, and I will contact the camp to request of the commanding officer the help of some of his men.

Statements will be taken from the Reverend B, Briggs and Clarke - but at present Mrs Bond is too upset to give a statement.

There is one other person we will have to interview. A Mr. Edward Cummins who lodges at the Rectory, and whom we have been informed, is currently away on business.

There you have it.

I’m afraid that was the only report I unearthed. No follow up notes on the case were to be found.

However, wondering if Golightly’s case notes had ever been published, I scanned through the popular spiritual press of the time. I stumbled across this footnote in The British Spiritual Telegraph which I have reproduced below.

Make of it what you will.

Share

That concludes this particular wardrobe adventure, however is it the end for Golightly? Perhaps we may meet again...

If you’ve enjoyed The Akenfield Poltergeist, subscribe so you don’t miss the start of our next wardrobe adventure staring Professor Echo & Charlie Silence.

Subscribe now

If you want to step into Golightly’s style, as left behind in The Blue Room, please visit The Closet at houseofd.ca.

• Louis Vuitton Black Patent Lace Up Leather Derby Shoes

• Brunello Cucinelli 3 button Linen Sports Jacket

• Optimo 100% Beaver Brown Trilby Hat

Read The Akenfield Poltergeist Parts I to V.

…June 27, 1899

I feel compelled to take up my pen again as I lie under the covers, shivering.

My most profound impression is of the absolute chill in the room.

It’s a summer’s night, and even though a little damp, the chill seems most noticeable.

And disagreeable.

The sense that had come to me in the corridor earlier, of the house, dark and gigantic around me, has returned afresh-and is intensifying as I lie, unsleeping in the bed.

I am reluctant to extinguish my candle, as then the dying embers of the fire will be the only visible thing in the profound darkness.

I think I must have fallen asleep. But, I am not sure.

Whispering.

Words.

Impossible to make out sense.

Sibilance; dust moving in dark passageways…two voices… whispering….other voices?

I have opened my eyes, and taken up my pen once again. I am hopeful that writing will help to steady my mind, and crush my creeping fear.

The candle is low and sputtering.

The whispering has continued. I am finding this most disturbing as I believed that I had been dreaming. Now I no longer have this excuse.

I have become aware of a most peculiar sense of darkness moving in and as darkness.

Golightly knocks his ink over in his panic to relight the candle at his bedside.

I have re-lit the candle.

The whispering has stopped.

Footsteps?

Coming down the corridor?

A most profound silence. Nothing. And then a crash. Very close. Inside the room.

The chair on which I had placed my clothes has been pushed over.

I will overcome my fear, and endeavour to right the chair to make sure that my clothes are not creased or damaged.

I do not believe I will sleep again tonight.

Share

Final instalment, Part V, coming soon. Subscribe so you don’t miss the next instalment.

Subscribe to our Substack for the stories…

Subscribe now

Shop The Closet at houseofd.ca for the style.

If this wardrobe adventure has stirred fresh aspirations and inspired adventures of your own, perhaps it’s time to write the next chapter for Golightly’s garments:

Featured in The Akenfield Poltergeist:

• Louis Vuitton Black Patent Lace Up Leather Derby Shoes

• Brunello Cucinelli 3 button Linen Sports Jacket

• Optimo 100% Beaver Brown Trilby Hat

June 27, 1899

B met me at the station, and his man, Briggs, took my bags to the rectory in the brougham.

B insisted we walk the scenic route to the rectory.

Much quicker than taking the road, B assured me, but, I was somewhat concerned that my Louis Vuitton black patent derbies would be a little worse for wear. Again, B assured me not to worry - and - promised that he himself would polish them. I was glad of my overcoat and Optimo beaver fur trilby, as the heavens opened not 10 minutes after we had set off.

I have to confess, B was in a somewhat nervous and distracted state of mind. As we walked we went over what he had told me in his letters and on the telephone.

I was most intrigued to hear that Margaret had organised a seance for this very evening. I did not say anything, and when he insisted that I attend, I agreed.

I have published on the chicanery of mediums in the Journal; whatever was to happen, I was sure that we would encounter nothing but nonsense.

Golightly and Bond stride out to The Rectory. The weather had been inclement for the last few days, and most disappointing for June. Despite the damp, the walk afforded the pair time to discuss the matter at hand.

It was late afternoon, under a heavy sky, when we arrived at the Rectory. It was indeed an imposing and somewhat unhappy building.

I was impressed by the silence that appeared to me to surround the house, as I was shown into a dark hallway and met by a domestic, Alice, who informed B that a parishioner was waiting for him in the front parlour. B excused himself, and Alice took my coat and handed my bag.

I was reluctant to let her take my trilby. The weather had been most unkind on our walk (June downpours) and I needed to make sure it was correctly brushed and placed at the right distance from a fire so it would not scorch or lose its shape.

Golightly is most relieved to unburden himself of his damp travelling coat. However, being most particular about the handling of his trilby, he decline’s Alice’s offer to dry it for him.

Golightly’s shoes did indeed need a good clean after the muddy walk to the rectory.

Alice told me that Mrs Margaret sent her apologies, but was busy with arrangements for the early evening meeting that would soon be upon us. She also informed me that a friend of Mrs Margaret, the Edward Cummins to whom B had already referred, was away on business, but sent his best regards.

She showed me to a small dining room, and offered me a late afternoon tea, which I readily accepted.

There was a fire burning in the grate, but I could not escape the chill in the house.

B joined me for tea, and with a distracted air told me that Margaret had arranged the sitting for the early evening with a noted medium, Mrs Kipling. He apologised again for the undue hurry, and made clear his regrets that I did not have time to properly change and prepare myself after the journey. After some discussion about old times at Petersfield, he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket, and urged me to join him in the front parlour in 5 minutes. Just enough time to finish a third cup of tea.

Alice showed me down the dark corridor to the front parlour. We knocked and entered.

The room had been set up to the medium’s instructions. I was entirely familiar with the subterfuges that allowed such people to manifest spirits, produce automatic writing or other such ‘showings forth’ of ‘spirits’ of the deceased. B and Margaret were sat by each other. The medium was yet to arrive. I was immediately struck by the tension in the room, but B tried to make light of it, and introduced me very formally to Margaret, who, equally formally, welcomed me and thanked me for joining their meeting at short notice.

The front parlour had been set up to the medium, Mrs Kipling’s, instructions. Margaret and her husband were sat next to each other, awaiting Mrs Kipling’s arrival. Margaret, somewhat surprised that Golightly was joining them for the seance, asked Alice to bring an extra chair.

The seance, as I suspected, was a piece of play acting on the part of Mrs Kipling.

Of course she could channel a lost soul who was trapped somehow in this world. With the usual entreaties, Mrs Kipling reminded the spirit that it had departed from this life and should seek its rest. I did not intervene but observed carefully, committing various small things to memory so I would be able to write them up in my notes.

Margaret seemed most impressed and eager to invite Mrs Kipling back, as the latter had convinced the former that further work was necessary to encourage the spirit to move on to the light of the soul world.

Noticing B’s barely contained distress, I thought it best not to go into the details of spiritualist ‘theologies’. Indeed, I resolved to say nothing substantial until the morning. I was relieved when Mrs Kipling was shown out, and Margaret excused herself to retire to bed. I did not press B on any details. We were both, I think, unimpressed by Mrs Kipling.

B mentioned that Edward Cummins had recommended her services to Margaret. Cummins has spiritualist leanings. I will talk to him when he returns from his business trip. B informs me that he is a confidant of Maragert’s, and it was mainly on her insistence that B had offered him a room at the Rectory.

After a reasonable meal by a jolly fire in the kitchen (we had decided not to stand on ceremony), we bid each other goodnight. B had informed me that Alice had lit a fire in one of the many unoccupied rooms that was to be my quarters for the evening. It was located some way along a corridor, towards the end of the wing that was presently inhabited. According to B, his predecessor had known it as the Blue Room.

I became aware that Alice had needed some encouragement to make up the room for me, but I considered it as no more than the usual problems that are occasioned by the management of domestics.

Alice showed me to the corridor off which the Blue Room could be found. She was most reluctant to accompany me. Indeed, she informed me that Nancy, the former domestic had suffered badly with her nerves, and had left B’s employ some weeks earlier. She handed me the candle, and with not undue haste, turned on her heels.

I had a sense of the house around me as I made my way along the corridor to the blue room this evening.

A fire is flickering in the grate and the bed has been turned down. I must ready myself for bed now, and will resume my notes in the morning.

Share

Part IV coming soon. Subscribe so you don’t miss the next instalment.

Shop The Closet at houseofd.ca for the style.

If this wardrobe adventure has stirred fresh aspirations and inspired adventures of your own, perhaps it’s time to write the next chapter for Golightly’s garments:

Featured in The Akenfield Poltergeist:

• Louis Vuitton Black Patent Lace Up Leather Derby Shoes

• Brunello Cucinelli 3 button Linen Sports Jacket

• Optimo 100% Beaver Brown Trilby Hat

June 26, 1899

I managed to speak with the Reverend B on the telephone today. He was agitated and a little incoherent, certainly not as I remember him, and so I have made up my mind to head to visit him forthwith. I am capturing these notes whilst our conversation is still fresh in my mind as I am certain there is a case for me here.

For the sake of the record, let me just mention that B and I had been at Peterhouse together. In my notes I will have to be careful to keep identities and places concealed. It is for the best. So, I will refer to my friend as the Reverend B.

Fondly remembered college years. Golightly and Bond Pictured at Old Court.

The Reverend B had just taken on a living in Sussex ( I can tell you this) some way from the market town of Akenfield. Here I must be careful. But, to establish as carefully as I can the facts of this case, I can also point out that the Reverend B had followed my career to date. Indeed, he had often asked after my work for the British Society of Psychical Research. As Cambridge men, we had known some of the founders. I was always fond of Professor Henry Sidgwick, and in particular Mrs. Verrall. A talented classicist. Those evenings at Selwyn Gardens are fresh in my memory. As is the foundation of the Haunted House Committee. It would be fair to say that my work started with that company, and these notes will eventually be written up properly and submitted to the Committee for possible publication in the Journal.

Reverend B had informed me that he had moved into the Rectory in January of 18XX. I do not want to compromise his position, so these notes will have to withhold precise dates. The Rectory was much larger than the Reverend B required.

His family was small and the property had been built some years back to accommodate the larger families that were popular at that time. Reverend B informed me that most of the rooms were kept locked and out of use, and that his daughters and wife made use of one of the wings of the property which they could keep tolerably warm and neat with the domestic help that they had.

Photograph enclosed in the missive from the Rev Bond. It was apparently taken shortly after the Bond family moved into the Rectory. On the back was written in his unmistakable spidery hand, ‘Margaret and the girls, Nancy and Briggs, 23 May 1898.’

Before he took on the living, my friend had visited the parish a couple of times and had spoken with the previous incumbent and numerous parishioners. It was a rural parish some way from the nearest town, and the Rectory was located a distance from the village. Reverend B found the incumbent most welcoming and the parishioners charming. But there were some misgivings. Almost by accident one of the older parishioners had mentioned that the Rectory was an unlucky place. The incumbent made light of this, and B had dismissed it from his mind.

He had been shown round the Rectory. It sat in grounds, with no neighbouring properties, beside the main road out of the village. Somewhat lonely, B commented in his letter to me.

The incumbent had explained to him that the property had been built in the style of Strawberry Hill Gothic which was very much admired in the middle of the century, but admittedly, was now somewhat old fashioned and a little dilapidated. One gardener did the work of a much more numerous staff, and the servants’ accommodation (with barred windows) was far too commodious for the staff that B or his predecessor employed. Nevertheless, one could easily imagine the building’s former splendour. A lawn, no doubt once neatly mowed, swept down to the woodland that shielded the house from the road and surrounding fields. B and the incumbent stood in the study, looking out through the opened French doors. It was late summer. B told me of watching the midges dancing on the warm, still air, and the shadows lengthening across the gently sloping garden.

B’s letter had mentioned the strange incident of the sermon. He told me of other disturbing events. The goblins, as he called them, had extended their activities to the kitchen. Various things had been displaced. Most alarmingly, the family had been awoken one night by a terrific crashing of crockery that came from the kitchen. B had investigated.

There was no sign of ingress, and he was certain that it could not have been either Margaret or Nancy (why would either of them do such a thing, anyway)? Perhaps the most alarming occurrence was witnessed by both Margaret and B as they lay in bed together. A jewellery box of Margaret’s appeared to be propelled across the room. Both of them found the event inexplicable. I believe that they put a brave face on it, but events continued. The misplacement or disappearance of various things and a sense that Margaret complained of repeatedly of a “ presence” that made her feel increasingly nervous, if not physically sick. Matters got worse still.

One evening (will have to ask B about the precise date) Margaret was making her way along the hallway that leads to their bedroom, when (she claims) she was pushed from behind in the most aggressive of ways. Suffice to say, there was no one behind Margaret. After this she took to her bed, and B cared for her; his own health becoming increasingly delicate. But it was the door banging in the night that finally resolved B and Margaret to send the children away. As with many of the incidents that B described to me, this began with the slamming of a door one evening. But over a period of weeks the incidents increased, to suggest something orchestrated- and- B stressed, malevolent.

Now, I must steady my mind, and ready myself for my trip. I will return to these notes forthwith. It is inclement this morning, I must look out my travelling cape as I do not want to ruin my Cucinelli linen sports jacket. My beaver fur Trilby needs a good brush too, I had put it away imagining the cooler days had passed, but the British summertime seems determined to disappoint once again.

A wire from the Rev Bond found slipped inside Golightly’s casebook.

Share

Part III now available. Subscribe so you don’t miss the next instalment.

Shop The Closet at houseofd.ca for the style.

If this wardrobe adventure has stirred fresh aspirations and inspired adventures of your own, perhaps it’s time to write the next chapter for Golightly’s garments:

Featured in The Akenfield Poltergeist:

• Brunello Cucinelli 3 button Linen Sports Jacket

• Optimo 100% Beaver Brown Trilby Hat

Share

The characters who inhabit our stories may be conjured from the imagination, but their clothes are genuine pre-loved timeless classics from the world of House of D.

This is clothing with a past, and perhaps a future still waiting to be written.

Shop The Closet at houseofd.ca for the style.

Outside of specialist academic circles, Jonathan Golightly is not well known. However, rather than getting distracted with the biographies of forgotten psychic investigators (including the African American occultist and sex magician Paschal Beverley Randolph, who definitely does deserve a wider readership), I think it is better to press on with what struck me as way more interesting. What follows are extracts from the Rev. Golightly’s casebook on his final, and some may say, most mysterious case, The Akenfield Poltergeist.

I feel it makes most sense to start with the letter, dated June 1899, that I had found tucked inside the pages of Rev Golightly’s casebook. This had initially piqued my interest in this particular case, and so I have transcribed it word for word below.

Dear Jonathan,

Old friend, it is with much anxiety that I ask for your help. I am sorry to lay my troubles upon you, but I am not sure to whom I can turn. Believe me, Jonathan, I have thought long and hard before writing this letter. I do not mean to flatter you or place you under undue pressure (one knows that friendship has its protocols), but, after much meditation, I believe that you are the only person who might be able to help my family and I. We are being haunted.

After writing these words I feel both a sense of relief, and an awareness that to anyone but you these words would be the expression of common superstition or mental degradation. Perhaps the best I can do is to try and put into words the facts as they appear to me. Forgive me if I digress, but I find writing this letter very difficult.

As you know I was for a long time the incumbent of an urban parish in Manchester. The work was exacting but rewarding. It took its toll on my health. After some time, I managed to secure the rectorship of a different parish. Some way from the northwest of the country, it appeared to offer me my family and I a new beginning. I will not go into the details at this point. One of my enduring anxieties concerns my young wife, Margaret. She was of immeasurable assistance in Manchester. Margaret did not want to leave the city, for all exacting circumstances it placed her under; and I feel that I may have placed her under undue pressure in stressing that my own health required us to relocate.

My hopes that the new parish would be less demanding on my nerves, and that Margaret would warm to our new life were soon dashed. I can provide you with the necessary background when, as I hope, we are able to talk.

The incidents began with what I can only call the goblins. The goblins would displace things around the rectory. I think it was not long before the end of the first month that the first disturbing event took place. As was my usual practice, I worked on my sermon during the week and kept it in a folder in my desk drawer. I believe it was Saturday morning, when I came down to find it strewn over the floor of the room that served as my office. Margaret and the children were surprised as I was. I certainly did not suspect them of any mischief; and Nancy, the young woman we employ as a general help is also, I think, beyond reproach. I should mention, we have a lodger: a Mr Edward Cummins. A most charming man, and also, I believe, beyond reproach.

Later incidents became much more alarming. I will write to you of them (or tell you about them?) presently, as Margaret is going into the village and I want to catch the post,

I do hope that I might be able to see and talk to you before too long.

Benjamin

It was clear to me that I would have to engage in further research into this strange case…to be continued

Golightly considers the letter from his old friend, the Rev B. He’s sporting a Cucinelli 3 button linen sports jacket in a green and black check, and Louis Vuitton black patent derbies.

Part II now available. Subscribe so you don’t miss the next instalment.

Share

Shop The Closet at houseofd.ca for the style.

If this wardrobe adventure has stirred fresh aspirations and inspired adventures of your own, perhaps it’s time to write the next chapter for Golightly’s garments:

Featured in The Akenfield Poltergeist:

• Brunello Cucinelli 3 button Linen Sports Jacket