Around the time of my 17th Birthday my Mother and Father decided to divorce. It was then that we moved into our new house in Carnkie, Cornwall.
By Angie Kruger
Jubilee Farm had been built to celebrate Queen Victoria’s Jubilee Anniversary and was well over 100 years old. It was an imposing granite built farmhouse, standing at the top of steep moorland surrounded by 5 acres of fields with a big barn and stables. Cornwall at that time seemed a centaury away from the rest of the UK although the Cornish people were friendly and humorous.
I remember on the day we moved in it became VERY clear that all was not well with this house. My mother and I were unpacking in the kitchen, chatting away and excited about being in our new home wondering what the local area had to offer. It was then that we noticed a milk jug suddenly slide along the kitchen work surface. It was as if someone was gently pushing it, but there was no one there. It moved with the same motion as a glass on a Ouija board. We stopped, looked at each other and laughed, presuming the weight of all the boxes on the work surface had caused a slope and that gravity had caused the movement. We continued to put things away and stupidly perhaps, started to joke about it.
A moment or two passed, and then right before our eyes the jug slid again, this time not just on the work surface. This time it slid right off the edge. It was as if time had stopped and instead of crashing to the floor the jug stayed suspended in the air, as if held by some unseen hand. Just floating there! Then after what seemed like several seconds it fell as if intentionally dropped, smashing on the hard granite floor sending shards of broken pottery in every direction.
Over the next few months many strange things happened. I suppose you could call it telekinesis. We often wondered if we were causing these things to happen, after all we’d just come from a period of massive adjustment and upset. Wasn’t that what caused telekinetics?
Very often things would go missing. Piles of freshly washed laundry would end up back on the washing line (usually when it was raining). Personal items such as jewelry, shoes and photographs would vanish sometimes for days, only to reappear in a location which had already been searched several times. We began to postulate the fact that what we seemed to have was a ghost.
Coming from a long line of mediums and sensitives, Mother and I had about this kind of thing before. My Great Grandmother had often told us about ‘haunted houses’ where deceased previous owners resented new people moving in. However being inexperienced ourselves we really didn’t know what to do or where to start. We had no idea what to do about the situation. At the time we didn’t know if the ghost could actually hear us and so we felt pretty silly talking out loud to someone that, to our thinking, might not even be real. So we struggled on trying to make the best of a bad situation, trying to ignore it. Then came the catalyst.
It was Sunday evening. Recently we’d taken in a couple of local lads as lodgers, to try and help bring in some much needed cash. They were called Chris and Alan. Both very friendly, they’d been looking for accommodation whilst working at a summer job helping to bring in the ripe harvest at a nearby farm.
One evening we had just finished supper together and I was helping Mum in the kitchen with the washing up. Chris was standing with us chatting. I shall never forget what happened next.
My Mother opened the overhead cupboard where we kept the plates neatly piled one on top of each other. As she placed the last one in we noticed that it started to rotate, turning slowly like an old record player. We all stood ‘agog’- speechless, watching what was happening. The plate continued to gather speed, making a screeching sound likes nails on a blackboard. Just as the plate seemed to reach an almost impossible speed it suddenly launched from the cupboard straight at my mother hitting her full force across her forearm, slicing her wrist to the bone. It seemed like everything went into slow motion; Mum staggered back supporting herself against the kitchen table, blood pouring from her open wound. Chris, shocked I suppose by what he’d seen, fainted and slid to the floor. Alan, having heard the commotion had come into the room just in time to see what had happened. Luckily he’d been trained in first aid. He quickly bound Mum’s arm in a clean tea towel. Told her to keep it elevated and then rushed her to hospital. I was left to clear up the mess and attend to Chris who by now was coming round. This situation was becoming dangerous.
On Mum’s return we put our heads together. This ghost was upset, something had to be done. We talked late into the night and decided no matter how stupid it seemed, we had to talk to this shade. We plucked up enough courage and explained out loud that we realised that we were viewed as intruders. We understood that we were not welcome, but for now there was nothing we could do. We promised that we would leave as soon as possible. But for now we would have to share. Then we went to bed.
That night there was the strangest coincidence. Mum, me, and Alan all had the same dream. We were talking to a middle aged Cornish woman with long brown hair worn in a plat. She was dressed in a brown cotton dress and white lace pinafore. None of us could remember what was said, but it was clear that this was HER house. After that, things changed massively. We would talk to her every day, just as if she were alive. Sometimes we could hear her answer in our minds. If we lost something we’d ask her to help us find it. More often than not, after a moment in would come the answer- it was always right. We called her Sarah – I don’t know why.
Sarah became quite friendly. I think she enjoyed the company after all those years of haunting on her own. Once around midnight we were all in bed sleeping when we were awakened by the sound of running feet rushing up the stairs then pacing around the hallway. The noise got worse, then BANG, My mother’s bedroom door few open and there at the bottom of her bed stood Sarah as clear as if she had never died. I don’t know how poor Mum didn’t die of fright. When we went into the hallway Sarah had vanished and we found ourselves standing in a huge puddle. Looking up we saw water dripping through the ceiling. The water tank had burst in the loft. If Sarah hadn’t warned us the ceiling would have come down and the house would have been flooded.
We never saw Sarah after that night. I guess she felt accepted and happy so was able to move on. From being a truly malevolent poltergeist Sarah had become a friend.
A little while later, just before we sold the house, we were talking to a local historian. He told us that many years ago Jubilee had been owned by The Master of the local Hunt. Apparently he had been a very powerful but cruel man, often taking out his anger on his horses and dogs. We were told that he’d also been a heavy drinker and that one night, after a ‘session’ he’d passed out in the big barn where all the animals were kept. He must have been smoking because there was a fire and both the Huntsman and all his beasts were burned to death. Maybe that accounted for the problems at Jubilee. Had Sarah been his wife? We never found out.
I still live in Cornwall and often pass by Jubilee Farm. It’s in a very poor state of repair now, looking damp and almost derelict. I don’t think anyone lives there anymore. And maybe that’s not a bad thing.
About the Author:
Angie Kruger is from the UK. Her core spirituality is Zen based. Angie studied and taught Martial Arts for many years. She’s always been psychic but started working professionally as a Medium in February 2000. Have worked all over UK including The London College of Psychic Studies and the Theosophical Association, Baker Street. Other countries she’s visited include Norway, Australia and Spain. Angie has been featured in numerous international magazines. You can learn more about Angie at www.angieandrich.com.
