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And to finish off, from Cecil:

'Poltergeists can sometimes be handled the same way as exhibits. You might have (say) a house where people have had the kids disturbed, the baby thrown out of the cot, things thrown around the house and bumps and bangs and they have gone round to the local priest and he has come round and says "North South East West, Jesus Christ he knows best. Out foul fiend! Out foul fiend!" And nothing happens. So this idiot (me) goes round and there is a dog yapping and under the sink is a pile of unwashed nappies and the woman of the house is shouting. and you say to yourself what is this house? It is the house itself throwing up the poltergeist. So the first thing I do is start talking to the house! And it works, strangely enough.

The house we had in Mayfair had a very good poltergeist; so much so that the Society for Psychical Research used to come there and they were funny because they used to get rather frightened and go!

The house, strangely enough, had the dining room and the kitchen right at the top of the house: the reason being that they had a flat roof and, for what it was worth, you had a view right over Mayfair. Now, in those days, you used to buy potatoes in bulk and in a corner of the kitchen there was a wooden box full of potatoes.

It did not have to be at night, it could happen at any time of the day, but you would hear a plop and you would hear another plop and another plop and you would go upstairs into the kitchen and you would see a potato come out of the box, plop down, and when it plopped down the one ahead of it moved on. And the incredible thing that happened, if you just waited patiently, you would have a long line of potatoes all moving in unison across the floor of the kitchen. They would then make a right to take them to the head of the stairs and then they would plop, step by step, down. Then you would get these little landing things, so they would turn round and go down the next fllight and if you weren't scared and if you were patient, and if you had a sense of fun, you could watch all your potatoes, all seven or eight pounds of them, walking out of the kitchen downstairs!

If you put your hand in front of any of the potatoes, what you felt, for a little while, was a very definite pressure, really hard pressure, and then, like an electric light, it was switched off. Then you had the fag of picking up all the potatoes and taking them all back again. Well it was a stupid thing but it was a thing that happened so regularly that you ceased to be scared of it.'


I can't take responsibility for any of this material. It all comes from interviews with Cecil in the 90's. I suppose the things I should be recounting are his views on Crowley and Gardner and all the business about the hoax ritual backed by M15 to freak Hitler, but that's been gone over a lot. I like the folklore and Cecil's own reminiscences. Years after his death, his voice flutes through the transcripts with great charm. Thank you Cecil.

And now. I give this illness leave to treat me badly for one more night and no more. It must be gone tomorrow, for I have no more time to be ill.Time to prepare!
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