GHOSTS OF THE B. M.

Waikato Independent, Volume XXII, Issue 2575, 22 July 1922, Page 3

GHOSTS OF THE B. M.

If skulls, mummies, sacrificial stones, and murderous implements of all kinds can attract spirits, then •most assuredly the British/Museum should be haunted. And, if rumour •speaks truly, haunted it is. To begin with, there is the notorious mummy-case that brings bad duck to whoever attempts to move •or in any way insult it. The mummy itself is not there. The latter is supposed to have been that of a lady o\ the College of Ameu-ra, at Thebes, but nothing definite has ever been •ascertained about her —not even her name.

The series of accidents are said to have begun the moment the mummy was disturbed in its original restingplace. The person who first removed it is alleged to have committed suicide, and his son to have gone insane. Bad weather and minor calamities pursued the vessel that brought the case to England. An accident overtook someone who tried to photograph the case, and when the latter was brought to the Museum, misfortune is stated to have overtaken the driver who had the temerity to convey it in his carriage. Nor did the mishaps end there. People who visited the Museum and gazed disrespectfully at the case are rumoured to have been visited with very unpleasant accidents afterwards, and the writer of this article can at least testify to one such happening.

A few years ago a lady who was strolling round the Egyptian gallery halted in front of the mummy-case, and, knowing the story in connection with it, put out her tongue at it, at the same time making some absurd remark. Some minutes later, when she was about to quit the Museum, she recalled the incident to a friend of hers, laughingly observing that now she was in for it, and would assuredly meet with a mishap of some kind or other.

The words were scarcely out of her lips before she caught her foot, in some inexplicable manner, in the stonework of the pavement, and, in falling, so hurt herself that she had to be taken home in a taxi. Needless to say, she has never been anxious to repeat the experiment.

By the side of the case is a photo of it, and there is something very remarkable about the photo ; for whereas the face that looks at one from the case is merely wooden and painted, obviously a thing of inanimation, a mere dummy, the face in the photo has something decidedly "conscious" about it, especially in its eyes. At the far end of the room containing this case is another relic, likewise said to be haunted, albeit in ■not such an unpleasant manner. It is the mummy of one Katebit, a lady of the College of Amen-ra, and most probably of high extraction and no inconsiderable beauty.

Some years ago, according to report, someone was looking at her—or rather, at her mummy—when, to their infinite alarm, it suddenly shooki its head, as if in strong disapproval, and ever since that hour it is said to have been haunted. Crowds went to see it, and many declared they saw a repetition of the same phenomenon., Eventually, I believe, the authorities were forced to intervene, and of. late years Katebit has been left in comparative peace.

There is yet another haunted mum-my-case. It stands close to Katebit, but has no name, only a long number beginning with a "2." One cannot help noticing it because of the face on its cover, which is arrestive in a distinctly unpleasant way. People walking past it i just before closing time, at a season when the nights set in early, and the great building fast becomes pe©pled with shadows, declare that they have seen the evil eyes glitter and the painted lips part, while a sound something like a very faint malicious chuckle has seemed to come from somewhere within it.

But apart from its haunted cases, the Museum has at times possessed ©ther ghosts, one of the best authenticated of which was the apparition of Dr. Wynn Westcott, the famous London coroner. On Friday, April 13th, 1888, Dr. Wynn Westcott was confined to bed with a feverish catarrh. He was much annoyed, because he had promised to meet two friends of his at a quarter to eleven that morning in the library of the British Museum. Judge of his astonishment, however, when, on going to the Museum several days later, he was greeted by a lady with the remark : "Is it really you to-day, or is it not ?" He naturally asked her what she meant, and in reply learned that at the very time he was lying ill at home, fretting at not being able to keep his appointment, he had been seen by several people, including one of the officials, walking round and round the library as if in search of someone.—' 'Answers.''