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| "How They Met Themselves" by Dante Gabriel Rossetti,1864 |
I didn't quite get this finished in time for yesterday, but here it is today instead! We're still getting battered by high winds and rain as well, and that's pretty much the forecast for all week, so hopefully there won't be too many power cuts (we had another one yesterday).....anyway, let's get on with today's post! Oh, and as Vardøgers are mostly auditory, instead of pics of those, I've taken some ads from around the same time as the article and placed them throughout to enhance old newspapery vibes! Enjoy!
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From The Brownsville Daily Herald, dated 13th of September, 1912
JUST LIKE GHOSTS
The Norwegian Vardogrs and Their Curious Warnings
A STUDY IN PSYCHIC FORCE.
Voices and Sounds and Visions That Foretell to Those Properly Attuned to the Phenomenon the Speedy Coming of Relatives and Friends.
In Norway, or at least in certain parts of it, there is a well know phenomenon. Instances of which are of frequent occurrence, known locally by various names, but in the east of the country commonly called vardogr. By this term is understood a certain property, attaching itself to particular persons, by which their arrival at a particular place, most frequently their own home, is announced beforehand by distinctive sounds, such as are usually or naturally made by the person in question.
It is only a limited number of persons to whom this property is attached who "have a vardogr," as the phrase is, and the premonitory sounds are not always heard nor by all persons. Very often it is only members of the family or near relatives who notice them at all. Much more rarely the person is seen instead of being heard some time before his or her arrival. It is to be particularly noted that the idea of the vardogr is not one which is confined to the uneducated classes. It is equally recognized and its reality admitted by persons of education and culture.
The following interesting account was given by Miss P., a schoolteacher in the town of Drammen :
"It is nothing unusal to find people in Norway who have a vardogr - that is to say, that one can see or hear them before they really come in person. Such cases can be found in nearly every family, but in some more frequently than in others. In the cases of my father and eldest brother it happens so often that we do not think it in the least remarkable. I remember one particular instance which I shall relate.
"We expected my father home from a long voyage and got word that he had arrived in a little harbor in the firth, but at the same time there came a message saying that unfortunately he could not get home for several days as the ice prevented him from coming up. We were very much disappointed, because we were just then about to have a family gathering. When we had assembled in the evening, we talked about how delightful it would have been if father could have come. My mother then took a book and read aloud, while we children worked, when we all heard the kitchen door open and father's well known step come in. He put down a box which he was carrying, and we heard him speak to the servant, who sat in a side room.
"Oh, there is papa!" shouted three or four of us together and rushed out to the kitchen to be the first to welcome him. But there was no one there. We ran to the servant, but she had heard nothing. We thought that perhaps he had gone out again, but no - there was no one. So distinctly had we all heard him, however, that my youngest sister, who was rather nervous, burst into tears, thinking it must be a warning that something had happened to him. It was the first time she had heard his vardogr, but my mother, who was well accustomed to it, said very calmly :
"'Go to bed, children. It was only papa's vardogr, and now we know for certain that he will be home for tomorrow."
"Sure enough, an hour afterward we had him safely home. Now, since he has got older, and especially since he gave up going to sea, we hear him much less seldom. But in his youth his mother heard him constantly and sometimes even heard him knock on her window and call her by name. Sometimes it woke her by night, and she would rise and go to open the door, but there was no one there the first time. An hour later he would actually come. That happened particularly when he was expected home from sea."
Another lady, Miss R., gave the following account, which shows that the vardogr does not merely announce what might naturally be expected, but conveys impressions of the facts quite unknown to the person hearing it;
"It was in the year 1901. I was staying in Christiania with my uncle and aunt, who had no children of their own. Uncle and aunt went away for two days and intended to come home between 11 and 12 in the evening. The servant girl had gone home that night, so I was alone in the house.
"I was just about to undress when I heard them come. I heard the sound of the street door, heard them come upstairs and open the hall door and talk to each other. It seemed to me that uncle carried something heavy, and I heard them talk about 'being careful.' I wondered what they could have brought home with them. I expected to hear them open the room door and go in, but suddenly all was quiet.
"About ten minutes after, I heard exactly the same noises. This time they really came in, and they brought a little cousin with them. She was fast asleep, and they had to be careful not to wake her. Next morning I told them what I heard, and uncle said:
"'That is not so wonderful. You have only heard a vardogr.'"
Innumerable other instances just as striking might be cited.
-W.A.Cragie in Blackwood's
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From "Phantasms of the LIving" by Edmund Gurney, 1886 who transcribed it from a private written statement in 1847, sealed in an envelope, and later published in the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research (Vol. 2, No. 19, August 1885)
"On Saturday, the 20th February, 1847, at about half-past 4 p.m., I was walking from the light company barrack-room at Templemore, towards the mess-room, and when opposite the library I saw Lieut.-Colonel Reed (then Major Reed) walking ahead of me in the same direction, towards the mess-room. I saw him turn the corner of the building leading to the mess-room door. He was dressed in a brown shooting-jacket, grey tweed trousers, and had his fishing rod and landing net in his hand, and a fishing basket slung over his shoulder. I quickened my pace, and turned the corner of the building about twenty seconds after him, and went into the mess-building. The door of the building opens into a passage, on the right-hand side of which is the ante-room door, and a few paces further on the left is the mess-room door. I went into the ante-room, expecting to find Major Reed there, but he was not.
Quartermaster Nolan was in the room, and I asked him if Major Reed had just come in. He said, 'No; he has not been here for some time.' I then went into the mess-room, and he was not there. I then went out of the building, and looked into the barrack-yard, but could see nothing of him. I then went to the gate, and asked the sentry if Major Reed had passed out. He said, 'No; he has not passed since 1 o'clock.' I then went to Colonel Goldie’s quarters, and found him and Major L’Estrange, and told them what I had seen. They laughed at me, and said I must have seen his ghost, as he went out fishing at 1 o'clock, and was not expected back until dinner time.
I then went to my own quarters, and about ten minutes after, looking out of my window, I saw Major Reed come into the barrack-yard by the gate, dressed and equipped exactly as I have described above. I immediately went out to him, and told him what I had seen. He was very much astonished, and told me he had never been near the barracks since 1 o'clock, and that he had been fishing up the river, nearly two miles off, and had only just returned. He told me that he had not caught any fish, and was very much disappointed, and had been wishing himself back in the barracks for some time before he did return.
The distance from the place where I saw him turn the corner of the mess-building to the place where he was fishing, was quite two miles."
(Signed) WILLIAM MATTHEW BIGGE, Major, 70th Regiment.
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From The Toledo Blade, dated November 11th, 1955
Does Erkson Gorique Have Double?
A Story Of Supernatural That Lacks Explanation
By WILLIAM CHAPMAN WHITE
ERKSON GORIQUE would just as soon not have his real name used in this. He doesn't want to have to answer his friends' questions. The only important thing about his name any way is that it's unusual and the only one like it in the New York City phone directories. As a man of 50, civilized, and even sophisticated, he's the last man in the world ever to get involved in any sort of ghost story.
Gorique is an importer. He has travelled widely in his business. As for the supernatural, he's always said that the only thing that makes it different from the natural is that it's harder to explain but that there's some explanation somewhere.
At least, that's what he used to say until last summer when he decided to visit Norway to see about handling Norwegian china and glassware. He'd planned that trip for some years but never got around to it before. He had never been in Norway and did not know one person in the entire country.
He flew into Oslo last July. He went to the best hotel and registered at the desk. He thought the clerk looked at him rather oddly but paid no attention until the clerk said, as he checked the signature: "I'm glad to see you made it, Mr. Gorique, it's good to have you back." When Gorique explained he was here for the first time the clerk looked at him even more oddly. "But just a few months ago you stopped in to make a reservation and said you'd be along this summer. Your name, excuse me, is unusual - that's why I remembered it."
"There must be some mistake," Gorique said, "I have never been here before."
The clerk shrugged his shoulders. "Then I must be wrong."
* * *
THE next morning Gorique headed for the office of a wholesale dealer named Olsen, to whom he had been recommended. He was greeted by a pleasant elderly man. "Ah, Mr. Gorique! I'm glad to see you did get back, I hoped you'd return after your short visit a few months ago."
That was more than enough for the American. "Mr. Olsen," he said, "I have never been here before. I have never seen you before. I have never been in Oslo before. Now if you'd be good enough to explain - !"
Mr. Olsen explained. An Erkson Gorique had dropped in for just a moment a few months before, expressed an interest in buying china and galssware, said he would be over again in the summer and left rather hurriedly.
"And he looked like me?" Gorique asked.
"Not quite as affable, perhaps and more hurried," Olsen said, "but close enough otherwise to be your double. He seemed very reserved but I remember it well. Odd, isn't it?"
Gorique agreed it was mighty odd.
Olsen said, I also remember he did say he had an office on West 44th street and a warehouse in Long Island City."
Gorique felt perspiration on his forehead. Those were the locations of his own office and warehouse. He just said weakly: "Odd!"
* * *
GORIQUE stayed on for a few days in Oslo. He placed a large order with Olsen. Together they discussed the episode of the earlier caller but made no sense of it. A few days later Olsen introduced Gorique to a professor at the university. He listened to Gorique's story.
Then he said: "I can offer you no explanation, sir. But I can tell you that the experience of having a 'Vordogr' or forerunner as it's called, isn't rare in psychic phenomena in this part of the world. There's even some literature about it. Just why a 'forerunner' turns up in those parts ahead of the real person's coming or why it is only in this part of the world do people perceive it, I don't know. But then, sir, there is so much we humans don't know."
Gorique agreed and came home. He hasn't told his story widely. But he never once goes to his office any more or leaves it without wondering if perhaps this time he's going to run into himself on the street.
....Anyway, that's his story.
*~*
That last story is clearly just a tall tale, but I've reproduced it here as it appeared in the newspaper. It's always been popular in newspaper journalism to tell stories of cagey people, who don't want to use their real names or be identified, which of course makes it totally impossible to do any sort of follow up or verification of the story....and so the whole Erkson story is most likely a fake using vardøgers as fuel to spook the newspaper's readers....
I can add my own little 'vardogr' stories though, that I and a few old friends at least can verify, in that when we used to sit in my friend Alan's house, which was basically the gang hut for the entire village, we would often hear the keys (which were always left in the door) jangle in their distinctive way as the door opened, although when checking, nobody had entered....this would then be followed up five minutes later by one of the local kids or Alan's dad coming in through the door, making the exact same noise. It became so frequent that we just took it as granted that when we heard the door the first time it meant someone was going to show up five minutes later.
Similarly, but not quite the same, was in the hotel all the local kids worked at for at least a few months, as it was the only place for miles around with career opportunities... As a kitchen porter in this hotel, you would often hear the distinctive noise of the kitchen door open, someone rush through and open the bar door, and then the closing of the bar door. It was a noise you heard at least 20 times a day, every day...but sometimes at night on the late shift, when you were putting the plates on the shelves from the dishwasher, you would hear the kitchen door open, and on turning around to see who was there, you'd be greeted by noone....and when you turned back around, you'd hear the bar door go as if someone HAD walked through. This again, became so widespread and experienced by everybody that it became expected rather than weird or scary....
Both Alan's house and the hotel were far from normal places though, but more on that soon-ish, in something I'm planning for some later posts on the blog... 😉
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Only a few days left of the Countdown now, so be sure to go check out what the other Cryptkeepers are up to by clicking the badge below....Cryptkeepers like Michelle over at Zombie Crossings who has been taking a look at some felt zombies!
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