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CASE VII
“PEARLIN’ JEAN” OF ALLANBANK
Few ghosts have obtained
more notoriety than “Pearlin' Jean," the phantasm which for many years
haunted Allanbank, a seat of the Stuarts.
The popular theory as to the identity of the apparition is as follows:—
Mr. Stuart, afterwards created first baronet of Allanbank, when on a
tour in France, met a young and beautiful French Sister of Charity of
the name of Jean, whom he induced to leave her convent. Tiring of her at
length, Mr. Stuart brutally left her, and, returning abruptly to
Scotland, became engaged* to be married to a lady of his own nationality
and position in life. But Jean was determined he should not escape her
so easily. For him she had sacrificed everything: her old vocation in
life was gone, she had no home, no honour,—nothing, so she resolved to
leave no stone unturned to discover his whereabouts. At last her
perseverance was rewarded, and, Fortune favouring her, she arrived
without mishap at Allanbank.
The truth was then revealed to her: her cruel and faithless lover was
about to be wedded to another. But despair gave her energy, and, burning
with indignation, she hastened to his house to upbraid him. She reached
the spot just as he was driving out with his fiancee. With a cry of
anguish, Jean rushed forward and, swinging herself nimbly on to the
forewheel of the coach, turned her white and passionate face towards its
occupants. For a moment, Mr. Stuart was too dumbfounded to do anything ;
he could scarcely believe his senses. Who on earth was this frantic
female ? Good Heavens! Jean! Impossible! How on earth had she got there
? And the tumultuous beating of his guilty heart turned him sick and
faint.
Then he glanced fearfully and covertly at his fiancee. She must not know
the truth at any cost. Possibly he lost his head ! At all events, that
is the kindest construction to put on his subsequent action, for,
dastardly as his behaviour had been to Jean in the past, one can hardly
imagine him capable of deliberately murdering her, and in so horrible a
fashion. There was not a second to lose; an instant more, and the
secret, that he had so assiduously hidden from the lady beside him,
would be revealed. Jean’s mouth was already open to speak. He waved her
aside. She adhered to her post. He shouted to the postilion, and the
huge, lumbering vehicle was set in motion. At the first turn of the
wheels, Jean slipped from her perch, her dress caught in the spokes, and
she was crushed to death.
Her fate does not appear to have made any deep impression either on Mr.
Stuart or his lady-love, for they continued their drive.
The hauntings began that autumn. Mr. Stuart, as was only fit and proper,
being the first to witness the phenomenon. Returning home from a drive
one evening, he perceived to his surprise the dark outlines of a human
figure perched on the arched gateway of his house, exactly opposite the
spot where Jean had perished. Wondering who it could be, he leaned
forward to inspect it closer. The figure moved, an icy current of air
ran through him, and he saw to his horror the livid countenance of the
dead Jean. There she was, staring down at him with lurid, glassy eyes ;
her cheeks startlingly white, her hair fluttering in the wind, her neck
and forehead bathed in blood.
Paralysed with terror, Mr. Stuart could not remove his gaze, and it was
not until one of the menials opened the carriage door to assist him
down, that the spell was broken and he was able to speak and move. He
then flew into the house, and spent the rest of the night in the most
abject fear.
After this he had no peace—Allanbank was constantly haunted. The great
oak doors opened and shut of their own accord at night with loud
clanging and bangs, and the rustling of silks and pattering of
high-heeled shoes were heard in the oak-panelled bedrooms and along the
many dark and winding passages.
From her attire, which was a piece of lace made of thread, the
apparition became known as “Pearlin' Jean," and a portrait of her was
actually painted. It is recorded that when this picture was hung between
one of Mr. Stuart and his lady-love, the hauntings ceased, but that as
soon as it was removed they were renewed. Presumably, it was not allowed
to remain in the aforesaid position long, for the manifestations appear
to have gone on for many years without intermission.
Most phantasms of the dead inspire those who see them with horror,—and
that is my own experience,—but "Pearlin’ Jean" seems to have been an
exception to this rule. A housekeeper called Betty Norrie, who lived for
many years at Allanbank, declared that other people besides herself had
so frequently seen Jean that they had grown quite accustomed to her, and
were, consequently, no more alarmed at her appearance than they were by
her noises.
Another servant at the house, of the name of Jenny Blackadder, used
constantly to hear Jean, but could never see her— though her husband
did.
The latter, when courting Jenny, received a rare scare, which suggests
to me that Jean, in spite of her tragic ending, may not have been
without a spice of humour. Thomas, for that was the swain’s name, made
an assignation one night to meet Jenny in the orchard at Allanbank.
It was early when he arrived at the trysting-place—for Thomas, like all
true lovers, was ever rather more than punctual —and he fully
contemplated a long wait. Judge, then, of his astonishment, when he
perceived in the moonlight what he took to be the well-known and adored
figure of his lady-love. With a cry of delight, Thomas rushed forward,
and, swinging his arms widely open to embrace her, beheld her vanish,
and found himself hugging space! An icy current of air thrilled through
him, and the whole place — trees, nooks, moonbeams, and shadows,
underwent a hideous metamorphosis. The very air bristled with unknown
horrors till flesh and blood could stand no more, and, even at the risk
of displeasing his beloved Jenny, Thomas fled! Some few minutes later,
at the appointed hour, Jenny arrived on the scene, and no one was there.
She dallied for some time, wondering whatever could have happened to
Thomas, and then returned, full of grave apprehensions, to the house.
It was not until the next morning that the truth leaked out, and Jenny,
after indulging in a hearty laugh at her lover, who felt very shamefaced
now that it was daylight, sensibly forgave him, and raised no obstacle
when asked to fix a day for their marriage.
In after years, Jenny used to retail the story with many harrowing
allusions to “ Pearlin’ Jean,” whom she somewhat foolishly made use of
as a bogey to frighten children into being good. A Mr. Sharpe, who when
he was a little boy was once placed in her charge, confesses that he was
dreadfully scared at her stories, and that he never ventured down a
passage in those days without thinking "Pearlin’ Jean,” with her
ghostly, blood-stained face, clawlike hands, and rustling lace dress,
was after him.
Nurse Jenny used to tell him that the Stuarts tried in vain to lay
Jean’s spirit, actually going to the length of calling in seven
ministers to exorcise it. But all to no purpose; it still continued its
nocturnal peregrinations.
In the year 1790 the Stuarts let the house to strangers, who, when they
took it, had not the least idea that it was haunted. However, they did
not long remain in ignorance, for two ladies, who occupied the same
bedroom, were awakened in the night by hearing some one walking across
the floor. The “presence” did not suggest burglars, for the intruder
behaved in the most noisy manner, pacing restlessly and apparently
aimlessly backwards and forwards across the room, swishing the floor
(with what sounded like a long lace train) and breathing heavily. They
were both terrified, and so cold that they could hear one another’s
teeth chatter. They were too frightened to call for help; they could
only lie still, hoping and praying it would not come nearer to them. The
sufferings of these two ladies were indescribable, for the ghost
remained in their room all night, moving restlessly about until
daybreak. It was not until some days later, when other people in the
house had experienced the phenomenon, that they were told the story of
the notorious "Pearlin’ Jean.’’
But was the so-called "Pearlin’ Jean’’ really the apparition of the
murdered French woman? To my mind, her identity with that of the
beautiful Sister of Charity has not been satisfactorily established, and
I think there are reasons to doubt it.
If, for instance, the apparition were that of a Sister of Charity, why
should it appear incongruously attired in a long trailing gown of lace?
And if it were that of a woman of the presumably staid habits of a
Sister of Charity, why should it delight in mischief and play the pranks
of a poltergeist? And yet if it wasn’t the ghost of Jean, whose ghost
was it? |
