Gef Although the „Talking Mongoose‟ Affair May Now Have Fallen

If you knew what I know, you‟d know a hell of a lot!” – Gef Although the „talking mongoose‟ affair may now have fallen into obscurity, it was, during its heyday in the early 1930s, an international sensation. Sightseers, journalists, spiritualists, and psychic investigators such as Nandor Fodor and Harry Price (see FT229:28–36) all beat a path to Doarlish Cashen, the lonely farmhouse outside the little village of Dalby on the Isle of Man where the events took place. Despite this public scrutiny, there is still no widespread agreement as to whether the case was a hoax, an outbreak of poltergeist activity or something even stranger. I recently visited the island, and began to re-examine the Harry Price archive held at the University of London‟s Senate House Library, together with that of the Society for Psychical Research, housed in Cambridge‟s University Library. Information from islanders also proved useful. As an episode that took place nearly 80 years ago, the case of the „Dalby Spook‟ – as Gef was known on the island – seems half-forgotten, although the name is still sometimes invoked: “If something goes astray or seemingly moved from where it was left… „That will be the Dalby Spook then‟ could be said.”[1] Harry Price‟s attention was drawn to the Spook in the winter of 1932, when he received a letter from the Isle of Man: “My correspondent informed me that a farmer friend of hers, a Mr James T Irving, had discovered in his house an animal which, after a little coaxing, had developed the power of speech, and was practically human, except in form.”[2] James Irving, his wife Margaret, and their teenage daughter Voirrey lived on a farm by the name of Cashen‟s Gap (in Manx, Doarlish Cashen). It was situated in an isolated location, on a bare hillside, a steep climb of two miles from the nearest village or road. A small, two- storied, two-bedroom house, it was illuminated by petroleum lamps, there being no electricity, no wireless, and no telephone. The interior walls had been panelled with wooden matchboarding as an additional layer of protection from the wind. Significantly, there was, between the walls and the wooden panelling, a gap of a few inches – sufficient for a small animal to move around the house at will. „MAN-WEASEL' OR MONGOOSE? It is perhaps surprising to learn that at the outset of his appearances, „Gef the talking mongoose‟ was thought of neither as a mongoose, nor referred to by the name Gef. The strange events began in autumn 1931, when the Irvings noticed an unusual animal in their farmyard, being, as Price‟s correspondent described: “similar in appearance to a weasel, with small body, long bushy tail, flat nose, and yellow in colour”.[3] Oddly, this animal did not appear to alarm the chickens. Later, it was seen inside the house, as James Irving described: “This eerie weasel, as I thought he might be, then began to keep us awake at night by blowing, spitting and growling behind the matchboard partition of the lower rooms…”[4] The entity quickly progressed to something more sophisticated. Having learned to mimic various animal noises, it then began to repeat nursery rhymes, and within a short while – having built up a sufficiently wide vocabulary – it could converse with the family. Its voice is said to have been loud, clear, and one or two octaves higher than a human‟s. Other witnesses describe it as a “very high, screechy sort”.[5] Initial news reports spoke of the „man-weasel‟ farm,[6] and indeed, the entity itself, when asked who or what he was, would frequently reply: “I am the ghost of a weasel, and I will haunt you with weird noises and clanking chains.”[7] It was only later on that he described himself as “just a little extra, extra clever mongoose”.[8] This identification was not as improbable as it might at first appear; some years before, in 1912, a neighbouring farm, Eary Cushlinn, had introduced mongooses to control the rabbit population. Descendants of this original group may still be in existence today; a local man described seeing a mongoose in 2007, at a location not far from Eary Cushlinn, as did Jenny Randles in 2002.[9] A journalist from the Manchester Daily Dispatch visited the farm in January 1932: Mr Irving, who opened the door, seemed a keen, vigorous, young-looking man… I told him I had come to inquire about the rumour that the house was haunted. “There are no spooks here,” he said. “Nothing that has happened is supernatural. I am being worried to death by crowds of people visiting the place. Come in, I will tell you about it… In October I and my daughter caught the first glimpse of the beast. It was a little animal resembling a stoat, a ferret, or a weasel, yellow in colour with a body about nine inches long. Its long bushy tail is speckled with black. It is thin and could get through a very small hole. It appears in the house from time to time, and I made attempts to catch „Jack‟. In about November, we first heard a strange voice coming from behind the woodwork singing sentences of songs and hymns…” [10] It will be noted that, at this stage, Irving referred to the entity as „Jack; subsequently, however, the “little animal” told the Irvings that he preferred to be known as „Geoff‟, which he spelled out phonetically as „G-E-F‟. Although Irving initially denied there was a supernatural aspect to the phenomena, he soon changed his mind. In his diaries and letters, he speculated that Gef had the power to shape-shift, and to become invisible: Early in 1932, my daughter and I were alone in the house, broad daylight… I saw, to my surprise, a very large cat, striped like a tiger… I thought this is no ordinary cat, so I slipped a cartridge into my single-barrel gun… The cat was a little ahead of me, but easily within range, and it turned through an open gate way… into a grass field. I was there a few seconds behind, and fully expected to see the cat, but no cat could be seen, look as I liked… I detailed my experiences to my wife on her return that night, when Gef called out “It was me you saw, Jim.” [11] A somewhat lurid news article – “House „Possessed‟ By A Mongoose / Mystery Animal That Laughs And Talks / Stones Thrown At Family In Bed / Hymns – And Death Threats” [12] – described an early incident in which, again, Gef appeared to exhibit the power of invisibility: one night, after things had been bad, James Irving decided “to have Voirrey‟s bed in my room for safety. We discussed it, and Gef‟s voice came from behind the boarding, „I‟ll follow her wherever you move her.‟ When we went to bed, I barricaded the door with dressing-boxes, chairs, and a heavy weight… Soon we saw the top of the door bulging in as if some terrific force were thrusting against it. But the door held. Then Gef‟s queer, high voice said, „I‟m coming in.‟” A few seconds later, a heavy pot of ointment kept in the room crashed against the bedstead. But if Gef had succeeded in coming into the room, and was able to hurl the pot of ointment, why did none of the Irvings see him? Irving recalled other odd incidents: on one occasion, three fishermen from the nearby town of Peel visited the farm; while in conversation with Irving, one of the men suddenly stopped speaking, saying that he had seen a white cat leaping up on to his lap – but no one else had seen a cat, and the Irvings did not own one. [13] In another episode recorded in Irving‟s diary, one of a gang of road repair workers was having his lunch outdoors, close by the farm. The man threw an unwanted piece of bread into a field, and was amazed to see the bread moving of its own accord.[14] And another: a cousin of Irving‟s, Cyril Oates, was tilling a field near Doarlish Cashen. A stone was thrown over the hedge at him – when he looked, there was no one in the field, and nowhere for anyone to have hidden.[15] Whether he was supernatural or animal in nature, Gef‟s behaviour was often surprising and capricious. Sometimes he appeared to enjoy his life with the Irvings, leaving dead rabbits for them and being rewarded with bananas, sausages and other treats. He took not just to talking but to music, singing along to the gramophone (his favourite record was Carolina Moon), performing the Manx national anthem or snatches of hymns and Spanish folk songs. Often, though, he appeared to delight in tormenting the Irving parents, once throwing stones at Margaret as she walked home and, on another occasion, losing his temper when Jim took too long opening the morning paper, crying out “Read it out, you fat-headed gnome!” in his high- pitched voice. But is there any other evidence for Gef‟s existence, beyond Irving‟s letters and diaries? FUR, PAWS AND PHOTOGRAPHS In 1935, James Irving sent Price some hair samples, which Gef had supposedly plucked from his own back and tail. These were subsequently sent to Mr F Martin Duncan of the Zoological Society for analysis. This was his reply: “I can very definitely say that the specimen hairs never grew upon a mongoose, nor are they those of a rat, rabbit, hare, squirrel, or other rodent… I am inclined to think that these hairs have probably been taken from a longish-haired dog…”[16] Indeed, when Harry Price visited Doarlish Cashen later that year, he managed to obtain some hairs from Mona, the Irvings‟ sheepdog, which, Mr Duncan stated, were “absolutely identical with the alleged „mongoose‟ hairs”.[17] When I visited the Doarlish Cashen site, I found light brown wool (presumably from one of the many sheep who are present in the fields) – perhaps this, too, was the basis for some of the samples? Imprints of Gef‟s teeth and claws, made in modelling clay, were also sent to Price.

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