The country folk of Avignon tell many tales about an uncommonly persistent poltergeist which haunts the great estate of William of Orange. Many believe it to be the Stampford Ghost which, in the early 1800's, had haunted a thatched house at Stampford Peverell, Devon, for about three years before the house mysteriously burned to the ground.
After the Devon house was destroyed, tales were told of a ghost flying through the night skies. Restless and with no place to haunt, the country folk believed it to have crossed the waters of the channel from England to Avignon looking for a haunt.
And, indeed, it had. Following the Rhone River north, the ghost saw in the distance a huge orange house which appeared to be without occupants, though its state of occupancy would have made no difference. It circled the great structure three times, then its gray form oozed inside.
But this phantom of the night was not alone. Orange House was occupied. In one of the great bedchambers slept William of Orange and his wife Mary who were awakened by strange noises not usual to the night.
William and Mary, upon investigating, stood in morbid fear, in the entry of the drawing room, as they observed their curtains in a state of agitation, strange levitations and priceless articles of antiquity moving about from one place to another, seemingly of their own ability.
Suddenly, and without malice, a gray body-like form hovered so closely to them that even the imaginary breath of this adversary could be felt on their cheeks.
"W-w-who are you? W-w-what do you want with us?" cried William.
Mary, in her sleeping bonnet, clutched her husband from behind and peeped around his huge night-clad figure.
"I am Gerard of Athee," the apparition told him, then added haughtily, "surf from Touraine, literally as well as figuratively, I might say. It has been given to me, since the year of my death in 1213, the task of overseeing the sale of goods at events coinciding with local autumn harvest fairs."
With an air of having not heard his remark, Mary looked around her at the disarray caused by their uninvited guest, then spoke, neither to William nor to the ghost...
"How much choice do I have, do any of us have about events which come into our lives? They come softly as the snow or as rapidly as a whirlwind. There are years when nothing happens and years when centuries are crowded into a brief span of hours--like tonight."
William looked at his wife as if an unknown character foible had surfaced, hesitated then asked, "What have you, sir, to say for your incendiary invasion of our home on the Eve of All Hallows? I must demand that you satisfy my inquisition. You are not sorry that you came, are you?"
The spectre shook its head. "Oh no! Though I have accomplished most goals in my earthly and ghostly lives, there are things I must yet do and learn even at my age! I have been restless for a very long time, you see. But here--here I feel at home. I belong here. And here I shall remain! And my promise to you will be that I will make my presence known only on the Night of All Hallows."
William replied, "So, you are not a cowardly ghost or a destructive ghost but rather, one might say, a ghostly adventurer."
The ghost looked startled. "You are implying a great deal wrong, sir."
With that, William found himself suspended in midair. "I say there, good chap, I hope you are not going to leave me up here. Set me down. Set me down straight away, do you hear?"
"I thought you were beginning to understand me," the ghost said imperturbably.
"I do. I do, Gerard," said William who was bobbing up and down like an apple.
"Which says everything, yet nothing my lord." The ghost swooped low with a courtly bow.
"William is quite right, isn't he, Mr. Ghost? Can you not impugn him?" Mary extended a glass of sherry to Gerard who waved it off. Mary looked at the glass with its soothing red liquid, rolled her eyes back in her head and gulped it down.
"No--yes--no. Well, I am a man, aren't I? I crave adventure, especially on the sea. I will but substitute for the sea your river. Ha! Ha! Ha! And please, madam, call me Gerard."
"No, you are not a man! You are a ghost! But I do concede you are quite functional, none the less," said William trembling, "so prove yourself harmless to us and you shall stay."
"Sir, I shall stay regardless!"
"Gerard, I am beginning to feel very strange. Can I come down now?"
"William, you are as pale as a ghost. I don't think you are in a position to further the cause of argument." Mary smiled sweetly and poured another glass of sherry.
"Gerard, why do I have this feeling you are not hearing me? I want down. P-l-e-a-s-e. I am sorry if I offended you."
With a plop, William fell to the floor--"This has been a very strange night."
Then, for some hours, the ghost who was to become known as Gerard, the Ghost of Orange House, entertained William and Mary with exciting and detailed tales of his misadventures.
"...and after that, I became a highly paid and loyal aide to John, King of England. In 1205, a year after Phillip II of France invaded John's French territories, I was captured and imprisoned. The harshness of my treatment was ended only through the courtesy of King John who secured my release by paying a ransome of 3,000 marks. I then accompanied my Soverign to England where I became his lieutenant."
"Oh! I feel so connected with you," exlaimed Mary, "I think we have known each other before."
"Yes. This is possible. There is an understanding among us--you, William and I, yes?"
"No! Yes. No. Well, yes, I suppose there is. You give us little choice, you know."
William asked, "Here, here! I say, Gerard of Athee, how can we be of help to you?"
The spectre nodded thoughtfully. "You can help by providing me with warm clothing."
"Why does a ghost need warm clothing?" Mary studiously asked of him.
"Madam, how could I possibly appear at your autumn harvest fair as a -- as a ghost?"
This is a work of fiction by Virginia Marin. It cannot be copies, altered, or used elsewhere without my written consent. Thank you for respecting my individuality and hard work.
Get your own Free Home Page