Stories have been handed down from generation to generation. Before the invention of the printing press tales were handed down by word of mouth. In some cultures they still are. After the publication of Dicken's "A Christmas Carol" it soon became a tradition to relate ghost stories on Christmas Eve. People would dim the gas lights, stoke up the fire and try to outdo each other with the scariest story. In our technical age, I suppose this has been relegated to the past. However, I decided I would uphold tradition and post a ghost story for you this Christmas.
Imagine a darkened room, candles flickering and throwing distorted shapes on the walls, the wind howling and beating at your windows and rattling your doors, the logs on the fire spitting and crackling. Are you sitting comfortably ? Then I will begin. The story takes place well over a century ago.
Colonel Ewart was a hardheaded, practical and down-to-earth man, not one given to imagining things. He was not a sociable man and disliked travelling anywhere in company so he tried to avoid trains as much as possible to prevent being stuck in a carriage with a host of total strangers.
However, he had an engagement which meant that he would have to take a train from Carlisle to London. When he boarded the train he was so relieved to find that it was not crowded and he was able to secure a compartment just for himself. He sat back happy and contented after removing his coat and his boots. He opened his newspaper, a copy of "The Times" and began to read. The train was warm and its rocky motion made him sleepy. He dozed over the paper and it was not long before he fell deeply asleep and the paper slipped from his hand onto the floor.
He woke with a start, unsure of how long he had slept but he assumed it may have been for around an hour. His back and neck were stiff and his mouth was dry. He pulled himself from sleep and he reached down for his newspaper. It was then that he realized that he was not alone.
Sitting opposite him was a woman in a black dress, her face almost completely hidden by a black veil.
The colonel was embarrassed. He was a gentleman and he felt it was not right for him to share a compartment with a lady whilst he was not wearing his coat and boots. He presumed she had boarded the train at a station whilst he was sleeping.
He quickly pulled on his clothing and footwear and began to apologise saying how sorry he was for being in that state and that he had not heard her enter. The woman made no answer. She did not even look up to acknowledge his presence. It then struck him that the lady might be hard of hearing, so he spoke louder. Still, she did not answer nor look up. She was staring at her lap and appeared to be looking at the folds of her skirt. Colonel Ewart could see nothing but decided that it was not his business to ask what she was looking at.
After a while the woman began rocking back and forth and singing softly to herself. The tune sounded somehow familiar to the Colonel but he could not quite make it out although it seemed to him to be a lullaby of sorts. Ewart suddenly thought that she might have a baby with her. Now the Colonel could not stand children of any sort and babies were abhorrent to him. The thought of a child crying all the way to London conjured up a dreadful picture in his mind.
He thought again. If the woman had a baby she would have to have some equipment with her in order to tend to it. Nobody would undertake a long train journey with a child without taking some provision along. Yet, when he looked there was no sign of any luggage or indeed even a small bag in the compartment.
He became more and more curious as to who she was, why she was singing and just what she was staring at in her lap. He could see nothing. It made him feel uneasy.
Suddenly, all thoughts were wiped away. There was a terrible screech of metal, a crashing sound and an awful jolt. There had been an accident. The Colonel was thrown forward and then sharply backward. His suitcase, which had been placed in the rack above his head, went flying and struck him on the head. It stunned him for a short while.
Being a military man he had faced many dangers and been in difficult situations before. He did not panic. He got up, made sure he was not really hurt apart from a large bump on the head. The train had come to a standstill so he carefully left it to find out what had happened. Outside there was total confusion. People were running about in all directions. The accident had not been as bad as it could have been, but there were a few injuries at the front end of the train. The Colonel went to see if he could render assistance and for a while he was occupied with that.
After a while he suddenly remembered his fellow passenger. He felt ashamed. He had left the carriage without even checking on her, not even enquiring if she was alright. She could be lying badly injured or in a deep state of shock. He rushed back to the carriage, only to find it totally empty. He assumed she must have left the carriage just as he did.
He searched among the all the passengers, she was not to be found. In fact, the other passengers all stated that they had never seen any woman dressed in black. He walked up and down the outside of the train his eyes scanning for her all the time. Nothing. He talked to the attendant. Once again, the man knew nothing, he had not seen the lady either before or after the crash. In fact, the Colonel was told that after he had boarded the train at Carlisle, the door to his compartment had been locked from the outside, as was customary on that line in those days, to prevent mishap.
The Colonel turned icy as he realized that nobody could have entered his compartment whilst he was asleep. When he insisted that the woman had been there, that he could clearly recall how she looked and what she had been singing, the man grew evasive and made some excuse to depart. He obviously did not want to talk about it.
Months were to pass before Colonel Ewart was to find out more about his lady companion of that evening. In the intervening period he had described his experience many times to many people. He could not forget it and never would. It made such an impact on him.
One day he happened to describe it in detail to an official of the railway. Instead of trying to make light of it as others had done, saying that as he had been asleep he must have dreamed the whole thing, the man replied “So, it happened again.”
“What happened again”? asked Ewart.
The official then told him the story of the veiled lady in black. A few years previously there had been a particularly horrible railway accident on the same Carlisle to London run. A newly married couple had been travelling on that line. United in wedlock only hours before, they were off to spend their honeymoon in London. The young man was so excited. Not only had he just married the love of his life but he had never left his native area before and had always wanted to see London. He could hardly contain himself and keep going over to the window and sticking his head out to watch the passing countryside and to see how much nearer they were getting to their destination. Eventually he leaned out a little too far. His neck caught on a wire and with the speed of the train, the impact completely severed his head. His headless body fell back into his young bride’s lap.
Of course nobody on that train knew what had happened. The young woman was too shocked to scream or try to get any assistance. So she sat there for hours. When the train eventually pulled into London they found the young woman, sitting in the compartment cradling the headless body of her dead husband, rocking back and forth and singing to it. The dreadful sight and shock had completely unhinged her mind and robbed her of her sanity.
She was committed to an institution where she died a few months later. On admittance it was thought that perhaps attending the funeral would be beneficial to her so that her mind might accept what had happened. A black mourning outfit was obtained for her for the occasion. It made no difference. Nothing changed her. She never spoke one word. She never acknowledged anyone. She would just sit for hours looking into her lap, rocking back and forth and singing the same lullaby over and over.
From time to time after her death the passengers on the Carlisle to London train had reported seeing this awful and tragic figure.
Does she still haunt the line cradling the headless body of her lost love? Does her ghostly lullaby still linger in the air? Maybe........just maybe.
If you enjoyed this reading this tale, please let me know and I will endeavour to come up with some more spooky tales for you.
With that, my dear readers and friends, Mike and I wish you all a very very HAPPY CHRISTMAS. May you be surrounded by love and joy.
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