year 1848.
The Fox Sisters
March 31, 1848
Hydesville, New York
S ince they’d moved into the house the previous December, noises had been bothering them.
The farm house was a small one, consisting of a single floor with several rooms, a cellar underneath it and a loft above.
Rappings and sounds like that of moving furniture had been heard time and again.
John David Fox and his wife had lit candles and moved around the house, searching every room.
They’d never discovered a source of the noises.
This night, they were worse than they had ever been, occurring in all parts of the house.
The couple even thought they heard footsteps in the pantry and Margaret Fox was sick with fear, convinced that some unhappy spirit haunted the house.
It had snowed that day and an icy wind was scouring the house. John Fox kept checking the sashes on the windows, thinking that they might be rattling to cause the sounds.
But the noises were taking place everywhere and both he and his wife were frightened for their two daughters, Margaret, ten, and Kate, seven; the two girls slept in the same room with them.
In an attempt to rationalize the fear they were experiencing, the girls had begun to attribute the noises to some mysterious, invisible entity named Mr. Splitfoot.
Their parents weren’t happy with this fancy but allowed it to persist since it seemed to ameliorate the girls’ reaction to the noises. And there was certainly no way they could afford to leave the house.
They would all have to make the best of this disturbing situation.
Mr. Fox had not yet retired that night; it wasn’t even seven o’clock. His wife lay awake in bed, her daughters lying equally awake in their adjoining bed.
The loud, rapping noises were almost constant now, sounding from every quarter of the house.
Once the beds both jarred, making Mrs. Fox and their daughters gasp in shock.
Abruptly, Kate, her body locked with dread, cried out impulsively, “Mr. Splitfoot, do as I do!” and suddenly began to clap her hands.
The noises seemed to imitate and follow her until she stopped.
A heavy silence fell, mother and daughters wide-eyed, heart beats thumping.
Then Margaret cried out brazenly, “No, do just as
I
do!” and clapped her hands four times, calling, “Count one, two, three, four!”
Four rapping sounds immediately followed.
The younger Margaret shivered, pulling up the covers to her chin, her face gone pale.
What had she
done?
She caught her breath, glancing sharply at her younger sister as Kate spoke, saying, “Mother, I know what it is. Tomorrow is April-fool day and it’s somebody trying to fool us.”
Mrs. Fox felt otherwise, convinced that someone haunted their house.
Her voice trembled while she asked, as proof, for the spirit to rap out the ages of her children.
Ten distinct rap sounds in the small room. Silence for a moment or two. Then seven raps. Kate whimpered,
“Oh.”
Silence. Then three more raps were heard. Mrs. Fox sobbed frightenedly.
There’d been another daughter who had died at the age of three.
“Is this a human being who answers my questions so correctly?” she asked in a feeble voice.
Silence. Her two girls clung to one another.
Mrs. Fox’s throat moved as she swallowed with difficulty. “Is it a
spirit?
” she asked. “If it is, make two raps.”
Two rapping noises sounded instantly, causing them to cry out.
Mr. Fox was in the same room now, listening, his expression tense.
“If it’s an
injured
spirit, make two raps,” said his wife.
The two raps were so loud, the house trembled from the impact. “Dear God,” whispered John Fox.
Then he cried out, “Will you continue to rap if I call in my neighbors so they can hear it too?!”
Again, the house shook with the violence of the answering raps.
At half past seven, Mr. Fox brought back their nearest neighbor, Mrs. Redfield.
Having heard his rambling account of what had happened, Mrs. Redfield was prepared to laugh, thinking it a
The Fox Sisters
March 31, 1848
Hydesville, New York
S ince they’d moved into the house the previous December, noises had been bothering them.
The farm house was a small one, consisting of a single floor with several rooms, a cellar underneath it and a loft above.
Rappings and sounds like that of moving furniture had been heard time and again.
John David Fox and his wife had lit candles and moved around the house, searching every room.
They’d never discovered a source of the noises.
This night, they were worse than they had ever been, occurring in all parts of the house.
The couple even thought they heard footsteps in the pantry and Margaret Fox was sick with fear, convinced that some unhappy spirit haunted the house.
It had snowed that day and an icy wind was scouring the house. John Fox kept checking the sashes on the windows, thinking that they might be rattling to cause the sounds.
But the noises were taking place everywhere and both he and his wife were frightened for their two daughters, Margaret, ten, and Kate, seven; the two girls slept in the same room with them.
In an attempt to rationalize the fear they were experiencing, the girls had begun to attribute the noises to some mysterious, invisible entity named Mr. Splitfoot.
Their parents weren’t happy with this fancy but allowed it to persist since it seemed to ameliorate the girls’ reaction to the noises. And there was certainly no way they could afford to leave the house.
They would all have to make the best of this disturbing situation.
Mr. Fox had not yet retired that night; it wasn’t even seven o’clock. His wife lay awake in bed, her daughters lying equally awake in their adjoining bed.
The loud, rapping noises were almost constant now, sounding from every quarter of the house.
Once the beds both jarred, making Mrs. Fox and their daughters gasp in shock.
Abruptly, Kate, her body locked with dread, cried out impulsively, “Mr. Splitfoot, do as I do!” and suddenly began to clap her hands.
The noises seemed to imitate and follow her until she stopped.
A heavy silence fell, mother and daughters wide-eyed, heart beats thumping.
Then Margaret cried out brazenly, “No, do just as
I
do!” and clapped her hands four times, calling, “Count one, two, three, four!”
Four rapping sounds immediately followed.
The younger Margaret shivered, pulling up the covers to her chin, her face gone pale.
What had she
done?
She caught her breath, glancing sharply at her younger sister as Kate spoke, saying, “Mother, I know what it is. Tomorrow is April-fool day and it’s somebody trying to fool us.”
Mrs. Fox felt otherwise, convinced that someone haunted their house.
Her voice trembled while she asked, as proof, for the spirit to rap out the ages of her children.
Ten distinct rap sounds in the small room. Silence for a moment or two. Then seven raps. Kate whimpered,
“Oh.”
Silence. Then three more raps were heard. Mrs. Fox sobbed frightenedly.
There’d been another daughter who had died at the age of three.
“Is this a human being who answers my questions so correctly?” she asked in a feeble voice.
Silence. Her two girls clung to one another.
Mrs. Fox’s throat moved as she swallowed with difficulty. “Is it a
spirit?
” she asked. “If it is, make two raps.”
Two rapping noises sounded instantly, causing them to cry out.
Mr. Fox was in the same room now, listening, his expression tense.
“If it’s an
injured
spirit, make two raps,” said his wife.
The two raps were so loud, the house trembled from the impact. “Dear God,” whispered John Fox.
Then he cried out, “Will you continue to rap if I call in my neighbors so they can hear it too?!”
Again, the house shook with the violence of the answering raps.
At half past seven, Mr. Fox brought back their nearest neighbor, Mrs. Redfield.
Having heard his rambling account of what had happened, Mrs. Redfield was prepared to laugh, thinking it a
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