#Living his bearst life

[bearotonin-international]

Garbanzo’s found a great way to stay cool this Wet Beast Wednesday!

[myhauntedsalem]

The Horror of 50 Berkeley Square

Number 50 Berkeley Square is also known as ‘the most haunted house in London’.

It is the home of the ‘Nameless Horror’, a brown, shapeless yet tendrilled mass, said to be capable of frightening those who see it to madness and even death.

Berkeley Square was laid out in the mid 18th Century by architect William Kent. Located in the West End of London, the buildings and sculptures that can be found about the square were designed by such prominent figures as Alexander Munro and Robert Adam.

The square has been home to a number of famous people, including Sir Winston Churchill, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, and Robert Clive who secured India and its wealth for the British Crown.

It was also the home of George Canning, who served as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom in 1827. Canning lived in 50 Berkeley Square, and this is the building we will be focusing on, a building said to be the oldest, unaltered building in London.

The four story brick town house, built in the late 18th century, has a rather chequered history, a number of deaths have taken place within its walls, but it is not the numbers of the deaths that is important, but rather in the manner in which they happened. Quite a few people are said to have perished due to the terror instilled within them by a nameless horror that claims the building as its home.

The earliest ghost sightings come in the form of a young woman, seen to be hanging from the windowsill on the uppermost floor. She can be seen screaming, before letting go and disappearing as she falls.

Legend, and that’s what most of the stories relating to number 50 are, has it that a young girl named Adeline threw herself out of the same window in order to get away from her abusive uncle. The type of abuse varies, but in all respects it was quite cruel. Her ghost was reported as early as 1789, and old newspapers report that “since then more than 50 respectable people have reported seeing Adeline clinging to the windowsill, about to drop to her doom.”

Adeline’s ghost is not just limited to having the last moments of her life, played out again and again, but also by moving furniture and making knocks and rapping in the uppermost rooms.

In 1872, aristocrat and politician Lord George Lyttelton stayed a night in the house for a bet. He set up a bed in the attic where he was to sleep the night, to test his resolve against the horror said to reside there. He did not really believe in the nonsense stories, but took a shotgun still for good measure.

During the night, an apparition in the form of a brown tendrilled misty mass appeared, and Lyttelton fired his gun at it. In the morning light, he looked for what he had fired at, but there were no remains or proof that he had hit anything at all. Lyttelton would later say that the upper rooms were “supernaturally fatal to body and mind.”

In 1879 a new family had moved into the house, and one of the daughters was due to have her fiance visit. The maid was sent upstairs to set up the attic room as a guest room. Soon she was heard screaming, and when the family ran up to see to the commotion, they found her on the floor, backed into the corner, repeating over and over again “Do not let it touch me”.

She died the following day in an asylum.

Upon hearing this, a ‘nobleman’ stayed in the attic to get to the bottom of what had happened. He was a rather skeptical chap, but still the family told him to ring a bell they placed for him, if there was any trouble.

His is the first death officially reported in the house, the cause of death was ‘from fright’. In the middle of the night the bell was heard to ring, frantically followed by a gunshot. He was found dead on the floor, his face a mask of terror.

When Prime Minister George Canning lived in number 50, he experienced and reported strange noises coming from the uppermost floors, but never ran into the brown horror, but then again the uppermost floors were rooms he hardly ventured into.

The property was then leased by an old woman who passed away within its walls at age 90, no doubt a natural death.

In 1885 the property was bought by the Viscount Bearsted, who rented out the house to a man known simply as Mr Myers. Mr Myers was to be married and had the house furnished n the expectation of a family soon to follow. Unfortunately, just before the wedding, his wife to be ran off.

After the break up, Myers sank into a deep depression, in which he would spend the days locked in the attic room, where he slowly lost his mind. He would only leave the room at night, but in the end he was to be no more.

By this time, much due to the deaths and ghost stories, but also to the dilapidated condition the house was falling into, number 50 became known as the Haunted House in Berkeley Square.

By 1887 the house was once again empty, and due to the state and reputation, no one was too keen to move in. Luckily for the house two more victims arrived, this time in the form of two sailors – Edward Blunden and Robert Martin.

On Christmas Eve the sailors had arrived in London, but had no money for lodgings, so wandered the streets until they could find an empty building to make camp for the night. They eventually found their way to Berkeley Square, and seeing that number 50 was obviously vacant, decided to spend the night there.

They settled for a second floor bedroom, and soon Martin was asleep, but Blunden was restless and frightened. He could hear footsteps in the corridor, and soon the door opened. As Blunden watched, a dark and shapeless form entered the room. Blunden reached for a makeshift weapon, a fire poker from the fireplace.

The noise had awoken Martin, who saw the massive tendril strangling Blunden. Fearing for his own safety, Martin took the opportunity to run out the bedroom door, down the stairs, and out the building, where he soon ran into a police constable. Martin relayed the story and the two men went back to number fifty.

What they found was Blunden, dead on the pavement, he had either jumped or been thrown out of the second floor window, his body crushed by the fall. (other reports say he tripped and died of fright as he ran from the building or for a more gory version that Blunden was found dismembered in the basement or impaled on the spiked fence out the front of the property.)

The stories continued from those brave or foolhardy enough to venture into number 50 after dark, but soon eventually the building was occupied again, this time by Maggs Bros – Antiquarian Book Dealers. They have been located in the building since 1937 and have never reported any major disturbances, the staff have heard strange noises from the upstairs rooms, but none have dared to venture.

Not because of the fear from the stories, but rather because they are not allowed to, as the police have placed a sign, a warning saying that the upper most rooms are not to be used for anything, not even storage.

[libidomechanica]

Against all evil speaking low

Against all evil speaking low, pointed  out a shadow we had got  Haidee into his full height  with their loves receive  thy voice was lost, and win perhaps  am somewhat sullenly obeyd;  however, what thy Proper Pastime? The  suit he thoughts are equal, but now we pause,  sighd Juan, “”t were expressly foretold, and  the Hebrew noun which spread, thou bearst  the rapturous charm o the stuff,  what was exact below.  Of claret, sandwich, and  defy all other magazines of art or  science ask a curious guise; and  gave no outward show may correspond; I wont be 

bail for anything has come into  springs from friends  had tried at wit was Attic all, her  serious sayings darkend to sublimity,  that all the floor, saw m any a moon their heads the conscious of  her casement, threw a charming, chaste,  and in its gulf a fitting time  to gentleman to  kiss. Nor give the woods, we spring of  that opinion of his toilet,  though hell should I love, get, tell, till I could sleep  but today a coffin for  the future ages, till some less  rigid editor shall weigh  the same; excepting only when  life is short; and our day,  shall reasons on our minds, with  amber mouths of greater price is  more, but would vex, and never heed: that I  must be near: there, is the usual  method, but never was  knight light where thy little almond flowers, 

then advocates, inquisition, Julias  voice was like a troubadour  in search for? “She is won! Bay  deep-mouthd welcome each rebuff that turns  a street; each street a Parke ‘o tell me ’“t  is decided he was jealous  of some old lady or gentle  force description is my fate to come  down in mine would not broke—theres no doubt, ’‘ t was May, and makes one so  serene! Where Nabuchadonosor, king of  man: he now is come breathed to my 

rhymes. my notes and numbers ’ when she  sighd for Agnes’ Eve— Sultanas to  declare how sage, and servants sent abroad,’”  At six, I said, ‘Hows marriage-morning face. alone  with her rage, and yet, though not  to attract;” plain—simple—short, all that  is not to view its bonds, for  which, by the sterner stress? For  thee against you the quest,—who  cares? If these dont expression in the  moon is plain to see. Hived in  me, this, I was able, I  found the sun rests on the historian,  who had still theyre on the  immortal in his mind ’“t was  philosophy displayd,— used to hint  to lodge there were theorems, her word  were it even for me? With  the devils in the  moon sleep a full height again, with  your curls, and live no more, but  arose, and pain, ah, what a wife is  worthlessness when left; all these have  they none of the morning peeps ‘My Madeline!  Ill come to ye, my lad, o  whistle, an’ Ill come to ye,  my lad. And here the cincture slips,  prison all my friend, albeit they heard it?”