If you’re an introvert, then you understand entirely how quickly this feeling can come about, and you understand more than anyone that what you need is sweet seclusion. While some may think this is lonely behavior, Rose Macaulay was able to put into words just how charming and comforting it can feel to be left alone in a piece from Personal Pleasures: Essays on Enjoying Life.

A Rose By Any Other Name

Rose Macaulay published twenty-two books in the span of just twenty years, as well as a number of essays, poems, and newspaper columns. She also gave talks, attended events, threw parties, and was no stranger to public radio offering her commentary on the state of the world. During WWI she worked as a nurse and civil servant and during WWII she became a volunteer ambulance driver at the age of 60, inspired by the likes of Marie Curie.

Her favorite book was the Oxford English Dictionary and she often wrote to the editors with suggestions, improvements, and even corrections, and despite her home being demolished in the Blitz, once rebuilt, she continued to host soirees for friends and acquaintances. The point is that Rose Macaulay was far from a hermit, and would even be considered quite social by most standards, but underneath it all, she was an introvert to the core. This was made exceedingly clear in an essay titled, “Departure of Visitors” which chronicles the pleasure(s) of being at last left alone.

Departure of Visitors

“An exquisite peace obtains: a drowsy, golden peace, flowing honey-sweet over my dwelling, soaking it, dripping like music from the walls, strowing the floors like trodden herbs. A peace for gods; a divine emptiness.”

The easy chair spreads wide arms of welcome; the sofa stretches, guest-free; the books gleam, brown and golden, buff and blue and maroon, from their shelves; they may strew the floor, the chairs, the couch, once more, lying ready to the hand… The echo of the foolish words lingers on the air, is brushed away, dies forgotten, the air closes behind it. A heavy volume is heaved from its shelf on to the sofa. Silence drops like falling blossoms over the recovered kingdom from which pretenders have taken their leave.

What to do with all this luscious peace? It is a gift, a miracle, a golden jewel, a fragment of some gracious heavenly order, dropped to earth like some incredible strayed star. One’s life to oneself again. Dear visitors, what largesse have you given, not only in departing, but in coming, that we might learn to prize your absence, wallow the more exquisitely in the leisure of your not-being.”

Acknowledgments

If you tend to be more of an introvert, it’s safe to say at this point Rose Macaulay has probably taken the words right out of your mouth, but in another essay, she articulates a similar response readers tend to have once they’ve turned to that very last page in a book, the moment a readers mind becomes uncrowded once again:

“Leisure spreads before my dazzled eyes, a halcyon sea, too soon to be cumbered with the flotsam and jetsam of purposes long neglected, which will, I know it, drift quickly into view again once I am embarked upon that treacherous, enticing ocean. Leisure now is but a brief business, and past return are the days when it seemed to stretch, blue and unencumbered, between one occupation and the next. There are always arrears, always things undone, doubtless never to be done, putting up teasing, reproachful heads, so that, although I slug, I slug among the wretched souls whom care doth seek to kill. But now, just emerged as I am from the tangled and laborious thicket which has so long embosked me, I will contemplate a sweet and unencumbered slugging, a leisure and a liberty as of lotus eaters or gods.”

So the next time you feel your social battery draining and you find yourself longing for the exquisite peace of being alone at long last, you can always revisit the personal pleasure we all share by word thanks to Rose Macaulay, the unsung heroine of the introverted.

The post Alone at Last: Rose Macaulay’s Ode to the Joys of Solitude appeared first on Magazine.

Marsh’s Library – Dublin, Ireland

Located behind Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Marsh’s Library is Ireland’s oldest public library dating back to the 18th century. Made up of two long galleries joined by a reading room, the inside of the building has remained, for the most part, untouched over time. But this library has more than just elegant oak bookcases, old books, and ladders among the shelves – it also has ghosts.

Patrons and staff have reported seeing the ghost of an old man rummaging through the shelves, believed to be that of Archbishop Narcissus Marsh, the library’s founder. The story goes that Marsh’s favorite niece, Grace, who he raised from a young age, fell in love with a sea captain at the young age of just 19.

Marsh made it clear he didn’t approve, which resulted in Grace running away and eloping. Grace left a note for her uncle explaining why she had eloped and asking for his forgiveness, but she hid the note among the thousands of books so he couldn’t find it in time to stop her. Legend has it, Marsh continues to search for the note in the afterlife.

Throughout the Middle Ages, chained libraries were common to keep expensive books safe. In Marsh’s Library, however, readers were locked in cages to keep them from nicking the books. You can still see these cages in the library, very much adding to the eerie atmosphere. Next door, in Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, are the bodies of author Jonathan Swift and girlfriend Stella. Copies were made of their skulls and Stella’s was placed in one of the cages at the back of the library, while Jonathan’s remains in St. Patrick’s. Some say Swift’s ghost ventures to the library to pay Stella a visit.

Marsh’s Library is open to the public, and upon visiting we recommend taking a look at the visitor book for the signatures of authors Bram Stoker, Johnathan Swift, and James Joyce.

Andrew Bayne Memorial Library – Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

If you find yourself perusing the Andrew Bayne Memorial Library, there’s a chance you may run into Amanda Balph, the former owner of the library who passed away in 1912. Built in 1875, this Victoria-style home holds roughly 14,000 print volumes, as well as a residential spirit that is as kind as she is mischievous.

The building was originally the home of Amandy Bayne Balph, the daughter of Allegheny County Sheriff Andrew Bayne, and was donated after her death to be used as a library and a park under the stipulation that no trees were to be removed from the property; however, after a 300-year-old tree on the grounds had to be removed due to Dutch elm disease, some very spooky things started happening around the library including lights and ceiling fans turning off and on, computers and other electronics being played with, and books, keys and other items being hidden from staff members.

But don’t get too spooked, as long as you ask her nicely, she’ll stop.

Combermere Abbey Library – Cheshire, England

Built sometime around 1113, Combermere Abbey is a former monastery, that later served as a country house for the family who took ownership in the 16th century. More recently in 1998, the building was entered into English Heritage’s “Buildings at Risk” register. While the abbey is partially occupied and restored, work has been ongoing since 2010 to save the building. Now, let’s get to the spooky stuff because a building that has been around since 1113 is bound to have a ghost story or two.

The most famous ghost story has been around since 1891 when Abbey owner Lord Combermere passed away after being run over by a horse-drawn carriage. During his funeral on December 5th at St. Margaret’s Church in Wrenbury, Sybell Corbet took a photo of the library with a long exposure camera. After the photo had been developed, Sybell noticed the image of a man’s upper body sitting in one of the chairs of the library, which was peculiar since the house was empty at the time the photo was taken.

Lord Combermere’s children said the apparition not only looked like their late father but that it appeared to be sitting in his favorite chair. Abbey staff members still report a number of ghostly sightings and other paranormal activity.

Peoria Public Library – Peoria, Illinois

Our story begins in the 1830s when Mrs. Gray gained custody of her nephew after the death of her brother. Unfortunately, her nephew had a mind of his own, to say the least, getting into trouble at every opportunity. Mrs. Gray, a widow who had little money to her name, decided that it would be best to hire a lawyer to attempt to get her nephew out of his legal troubles. David Davis took her house as collateral to cover his fees and when the bill came, Mrs. Gray was unable to pay and Davis sued to collect the mortgage for his fees.

In a fit of anger, Mrs. Gray kicked her nephew out of the house while she battled her own court case. Soon after, her nephew’s lifeless body was found floating in the Illinois River, the cause of death unknown. A devastated Mrs. Gray didn’t blame herself, but instead blamed Davis and cursed the property and all future occupants.

The lore is after Davis took over the property, nothing would grow on the land, despite the fact Mrs. Gray had beautiful gardens. Davis was also known to wake up suddenly throughout the night to a banging on the door, finding Mrs. Gray’s nephew outside, begging to be let in, only to immediately disappear.

In 1894, the city of Peoria purchased the property and built a public library. The first three directors of the library died under suspicious circumstances including a streetcar accident, a heart attack during a board meeting, and suicide after swallowing arsenic. While these could all be coincidences, Mrs. Gray’s curses were always at the forefront of locals’ minds. The original library was torn down in 1966 and rebuilt, but library visitors still report seeing Mr. Wilcox wandering the halls, staff have reported seeing his face in doorwards, their names called when nobody else is around, and have felt cold spots where there should be no drafts.

Houston Public Library – Houston, Texas

One morning in November of 1936 the librarians of the Houston Public Library arrived to find the night watchman/handyman/gardener, Jacob Frank Cramer, dead. Eventually, the cause of death was determined to be a lung hemorrhage. Since his death, all peculiar instances reported at the library have been attributed to Cramer. 

Cramer had rented a small apartment in the basement of the library where he lived with his beloved German Shepherd, Petey. In his spare time, Cramer loved to play the violin and could often be found serenading the building that he loved and cared for. Patrons and staff have reported finding violin sheet music on the basement floor, as well as hearing a scratching sound as if a dog was digging and the sound of a dog’s toenails tapping on the floor. Staff have also reported seeing shadows, that disappear when directly looked at, lights flickering on and off, and trees sprouting up in freshly planted locations around the building.

The post Let’s Go Ghouls: 5 Haunted Libraries  appeared first on Magazine.