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My father's great-aunt Mary used to tell a story about her first job:
She was engaged to be the live-in babysitter/governess of a well-off family in Pittsburgh, back in the early years of the last century. The parents were good, solid citizens who were willing to pay her well, the children were well behaved and charming, and they lived in a nice home in a nice area. Everything that first day seemed to be off to a good start. After dinner she tucked the children in, chatted with the parents for a few minutes, and then went up to her room, unpacked her suitcase, and went to bed. Her room was near the nursery, so she left the door open a few inches in case the children called for her.
She was almost asleep when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were steady footsteps, not stealthy, and when they paused at her bedroom door she assumed that the father was checking to make sure that she was all right. This made her feel safe and protected, for she was barely out of her teens, and it was her first night away from home.
The footsteps went away, and she began to drift off a second time. She was almost asleep again when she heard the footsteps.
This time she lay very still, not moving, but very much awake. The footsteps kept the same steady cadence down the hall, all the way up to her door, and once again they paused as if someone were peeking inside. Mary held her breath until the footsteps retreated. She now wondered if her employer was a lunatic, or dangerous.
She rolled over in bed and sat up, too terrified to sleep. She had no idea what was going on, but she was determined to see exactly who was checking on her.
Once again the footsteps sounded, steadily walking to her door. This time they did not pause, but continued until they were at the foot of the bed. There was enough light from the street that she could see that there was no one there, but seconds later she felt the weight of a body sitting on the foot of her bed, and saw the mattress dip as someone - or something - sat down....
Mary immediately turned on the lights. The weight was gone from the foot of her bed, and the dip from a human form had vanished. She slammed and locked the door to her room, hauled out her worn Bible, and sat up reading Scripture until dawn.
The next morning the parents asked her how she'd slept. Mary waited until the children were out of the room to tell them exactly what had happened, and how frightened she'd been. The husband and the wife turned to each other, and almost in unison said, "It happened again."
That was when they told Mary that the same thing had happened to every person, servant or guest, who had tried to sleep in that room. They had no idea what was going on, but they had hoped against hope that Mary, who had a reputation as a pious and respectable girl, would be spared what had happened to everyone else.
Mary packed her belongings and left that morning. She never found out why a ghost seemed to haunt that particular room, but when my mother told the story to J. Gaither Pratt, who was lecturing at the school where my father worked, he speculated that the house may have been the site of a murder or other traumatic account that tainted it somehow. My father tried to find the house many years later but never succeeded, and I've never seen it retold in any list of Pennsylvania ghost stories.
Has anyone heard this tale before?
She was engaged to be the live-in babysitter/governess of a well-off family in Pittsburgh, back in the early years of the last century. The parents were good, solid citizens who were willing to pay her well, the children were well behaved and charming, and they lived in a nice home in a nice area. Everything that first day seemed to be off to a good start. After dinner she tucked the children in, chatted with the parents for a few minutes, and then went up to her room, unpacked her suitcase, and went to bed. Her room was near the nursery, so she left the door open a few inches in case the children called for her.
She was almost asleep when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were steady footsteps, not stealthy, and when they paused at her bedroom door she assumed that the father was checking to make sure that she was all right. This made her feel safe and protected, for she was barely out of her teens, and it was her first night away from home.
The footsteps went away, and she began to drift off a second time. She was almost asleep again when she heard the footsteps.
This time she lay very still, not moving, but very much awake. The footsteps kept the same steady cadence down the hall, all the way up to her door, and once again they paused as if someone were peeking inside. Mary held her breath until the footsteps retreated. She now wondered if her employer was a lunatic, or dangerous.
She rolled over in bed and sat up, too terrified to sleep. She had no idea what was going on, but she was determined to see exactly who was checking on her.
Once again the footsteps sounded, steadily walking to her door. This time they did not pause, but continued until they were at the foot of the bed. There was enough light from the street that she could see that there was no one there, but seconds later she felt the weight of a body sitting on the foot of her bed, and saw the mattress dip as someone - or something - sat down....
Mary immediately turned on the lights. The weight was gone from the foot of her bed, and the dip from a human form had vanished. She slammed and locked the door to her room, hauled out her worn Bible, and sat up reading Scripture until dawn.
The next morning the parents asked her how she'd slept. Mary waited until the children were out of the room to tell them exactly what had happened, and how frightened she'd been. The husband and the wife turned to each other, and almost in unison said, "It happened again."
That was when they told Mary that the same thing had happened to every person, servant or guest, who had tried to sleep in that room. They had no idea what was going on, but they had hoped against hope that Mary, who had a reputation as a pious and respectable girl, would be spared what had happened to everyone else.
Mary packed her belongings and left that morning. She never found out why a ghost seemed to haunt that particular room, but when my mother told the story to J. Gaither Pratt, who was lecturing at the school where my father worked, he speculated that the house may have been the site of a murder or other traumatic account that tainted it somehow. My father tried to find the house many years later but never succeeded, and I've never seen it retold in any list of Pennsylvania ghost stories.
Has anyone heard this tale before?
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Date: 2009-11-01 01:29 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-01 04:03 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-01 10:20 am (UTC)From:I kind of think that the ghost that kept going to the governess' room probably used to work there herself and was a little confused by what someone else was doing in her room, and then sat down in the spot she used to sit after a day's work. I mean, it might not have been a trauma, just an desire not to move on and the comfort of the familiar.