Mompesson himself
was privy to the whole matter, and permitted and encouraged these
tricks in his house for the sake of notoriety; but it seems more
probable that the gipsies were the real delinquents, and that Mr.
Mompesson was as much alarmed and bewildered as his credulous
neighhours, whose excited imaginations conjured up no small portion of
these stories,

"Which rolled, and as they rolled, grew larger every hour."

Many instances, of a similar kind, during the seventeenth century,
might be gleaned from Glanvil and other writers of that period; but
they do not differ sufficiently from these to justify a detail of them.
The most famous of all haunted houses acquired its notoriety much
nearer our own time; and the circumstances connected with it are so
curious, and afford so fair a specimen of the easy credulity even of
well-informed and sensible people, as to merit a little notice in this
chapter. The Cock Lane Ghost, as it was called, kept London in
commotion for a considerable time, and was the theme of conversation
among the learned and the illiterate, and in every circle, from that of
the prince to that of the peasant.

At the commencement of the year 1760, there resided in Cock Lane, near
West Smithfield, in the house of one Parsons, the parish clerk of St.
Sepulchre's, a stockbroker, named Kent. The wife of this gentleman had
died in child-bed during the previous year, and his sister-in-law, Miss
Fanny, had arrived from Norfolk to keep his house for him. They soon
conceived a mutual affection, and each of them made a will in the
other's favour. They lived some months in the house of Parsons, who,
being a needy man, borrowed money of his lodger. Some difference arose
betwixt them, and Mr. Kent left the house, and instituted legal
proceedings against the parish clerk for the recovery of his money.

While this matter was yet pending, Miss Fanny was suddenly taken ill of
the small-pox; and, notwithstanding every care and attention, she died
in a few days, and was buried in a vault under Clerkenwell church.
Parsons now began to hint that the poor lady had come unfairly by her
death, and that Mr. Kent was accessory to it, from his too great
eagerness to enter into possession of the property she had bequeathed
him. Nothing further was said for nearly two years; but it would appear
that Parsons was of so revengeful a character, that he had never
forgotten or forgiven his differences with Mr. Kent, and the indigni