There is a certain type of what we today call “poltergeist accounts” which have an odd focus on dairy products--butter, in particular. One of the most notable examples was recorded in the “Manchester Weekly Times,” February 4, 1854:
During the recent week a number of the inhabitants in the villages of Stretford and Barton-upon-Irwell, near Manchester have had their wonder excited by a report that in a certain cottage situate in the latter township, occupied by persons of quiet habits and of rather advanced age, there had been innumerable instances of butter spontaneously and marvellously presenting itself, on the floor, the furniture, and the clothing, and even the beds of the occupants, for which they could assign no cause, and by which they were very much alarmed. The news of this spread to Manchester and Salford. Our reporter found the matter exciting the curiosity of several individuals who had business at the New Bailey on Thursday. One of them, a farmer, who is the owner of land in the vicinity of the cottage, had himself witnessed the circumstance, and was unable to find any rational solution. Police-constable Bent, whose duties lay in the neighbourhood of Stretford, had also visited the place, but although tolerably clever in detecting parties who are in the habit of illegally taking butter away, he was unable to discover who could be the contributor of it in the case under notice. With the view of tracing the odd story about the wondrous butter to its source, our reporter proceeded to the place on Thursday afternoon. The topic, he found, was even rife in the railway carriages between Manchester and Stretford. Half an hour’s walk from the Stretford station sufficed to reach the scene of the alleged mystery, and which, it would seem, was threatening to supersede the good offices of that useful animal, the cow, which has hitherto had the sole monopoly of supplying us with butter. The cottage is situate about six miles west of Manchester, between Stretford and Barton Bridge, a little to the right of Moss Lane, a few hundred yards beyond Lostock Hall. There are two double-story thatched cottages adjoining, having gardens and door in front, but only one of these is tenanted. There is no other house within 200 yards, and the others are thinly scattered, and at greater distances. The cottage, which has a brook running close at the rear, is occupied by Samuel Warburton, a man about 60 years of age (who we understand, has a small income, and weaves a little cotton plaid in a room within the house,) his wife, William Warburton (a brother,) nearly 50 years old, and a girl about 12, the daughter of a relative. William Warburton has also a small income, and was, during some part of last year, a schoolmaster in Hulme, but is not now so engaged. On entering the cottage, our reporter found these four persons within, and a very few words sufficed to explain the object of his visit, for that was anticipated, as many had already preceded him to make inquiries. A glance around the apartment revealed the fact that he was in the fat of the land, for butter seemed to have budded from every description of substance, from living boughs of holly to dead veneers of mahogany, and even glass.The door had been closed but a few minutes, when a knock was heard. On its being opened, a gentleman remarked, "How do you do, Mrs Warburton; I have heard a strange story, and I am come to investigate it." He was desired to take a seat, and was tolerably silent while the inmates gave an account of what seems to them an impenetrable mystery. They are all professors of religion, and attend the services of the Primitive Methodist Connection. This may not apply to the girl, but she seems steady, and has been several years with her relatives, who have occupied this house about fifteen years. William Warburton, the younger brother, we may remark, was the owner of the house in Urmston where the celebrated Tim Bobbin was born . The following is the narration of the parties:--
Samuel Warburton: The first time we noticed anything particular was last Sunday but one. Just before breakfast, we saw several bits of butter on the floor, upon some of which we had trodden. William (the younger brother) had gone out, and we thought he must have accidentally spilled some. Nothing was said or thought of further until last Saturday, in the forenoon, when he again observed little bits of butter on the floor.
Mrs. Warburton: I said to my husband, it must have been done by William (who had gone to Manchester at the time,) he must have had his coat amongst the butter, and then have shaken his coat, and so thrown the bits about; for I found them against the drawer, the cupboard, the sofa, the clock, the table, and all round.
Samuel Warburton: The girl sleeps in a bed in our room, and my brother William in another room. On Saturday night, they went to their beds about nine o'clock, but I stayed up with my wife, to have a little talk, and a pipe of tobacco. It would be after one when we went to bed. We noticed nothing on the stairs that night, but on Sunday morning there was not, I believe, a single step without butter upon it. It seemed, in many instances, as if we had trodden upon it on Saturday night. We followed the track into each room, and there were marks on the carpets. At first we thought this had come off our shoes, but we don't think so now. We found a piece upon my brother's bolster, also on his night cap. Then we examined the bed clothes, and we found some between the two quilts, which were on the top of the bed; and another piece, being the larger, at the bottom of the bed, where his feet might lie.
He had gone to Manchester, and it kept us busy all the forenoon clearing it away. A piece of paper we found at the top part of the bed by the girl, with butter upon it, but we believe that had only had the butter wiped upon it which we collected, and then accidentally let the paper fall. There were several bits of butter found in our room, too. On Sunday morning last, my brother got up first, as usual, and lighted the fire. He goes to the Primitive Methodist Sunday school, to teach. I and my wife came down stairs about nine o'clock, and we found that bits of butter were all about the floor, and sticking to the furniture.
Mrs. Warburton: I had occasion to go into the garden, and took my shawl out of the drawer; I saw nothing on the shawl when I went out, but when I came in, after a few minutes, there was a large piece upon it.
Wm. Warburton: I found a piece inside my coat, before I set off to the school, in Urmston; and when I came home there was a piece on my trousers.
Samuel Warburton: We kept picking it off the furniture, and still we found it. On Sunday, after dinner, it was again on the furniture. As we sat by the fire we kept observing it on our clothes. We never saw it coming, or know not how it came. On Sunday evening, I and my brother were going to public service, but my wife and the girl, owing to it, did not like to stay by themselves, so we arranged for my brother to stay with them. When I put my coat on to go there were pieces of butter on it, and my wife took a number off, and then, when she thought I was partly clean, she said, "Will't be off, while thou’s decent."
Mrs. Warburton (appearing very serious): I could not keep straight with it, and I said, “Will’t be off while thou’rt any bit like."
Samuel Warburton: When I came back from the preaching, they told me they had been standing by the fire, picking the butter off each other's clothes. They threw it into the fire and it burned.
Mrs. Warburton: At last I said, “Let's sit down, and let it do as it likes" for I was weary. It never came on our skins, but I found one piece between my dress and my petticoats, and two pieces on my cap, and the girl had some on her hair,
Samuel Warburton: On Monday morning it continued to appear on the furniture, and instead of burning it, as we had done, we determined to keep it. About nine o'clock, I collected what I could see, and put it on that piece of pot on the table. I thought that it must be some black thing or other, and I have a Herbal, and read in this book that holly boughs were good against witchcraft. I thought, "Well, I can easily get them, I'll try that." So I got three holly boughs, and I hung them up to the ceiling of the house, and in half an hour there was a piece of butter on every bough! So that I am satisfied that holly boughs can do no good.
Mrs. Warburton: As we were going to wash, the girl was putting water into a boiler in a little scullery, and she called me to look at a piece of butter sticking to the side of the boiler.
Samuel Warburton: I weave a little plaid cotton, in a small room adjoining the kitchen, and, on Monday forenoon, when I went to work at my loom there were two pieces of butter on the cloth, and other two pieces on the panes of glass. I read a passage of scripture every morning; and on Monday I was surprised to find several bits of butter between the leaves of different parts of my Bible; and they were not in the places where I had read.
The Bible was then shown, and the greasy marks were visible enough. Of course there was nothing in the stained places referring to the importation of foreign butter, but to satisfy the curiosity of any who might wish to examine for themselves, we may state that the first mark was in 1st Saml. vi. Chap. 5v; and 1st Saml. ix.chap. 2-3v.; Isaiah l,ivii, chap. lv;) and another between the v. and vii. chapters of Revelations. It was stated that there had been no obvious accumulation since Monday noon, although a few bits were noted on the furniture on Tuesday morning which were not seen on Monday. On Tuesday the head family invited the Rev. J. Garner, Primitive Methodist preacher residing in Warde Street, Hulme (and who was to preach in the neighbourhood) to take tea with him. The particulars of the unusual situation were discussed, but no explanation could be given.
No clear notion of the weight of the butter thus collected could be ascertained, but as the bits were only from the size of a bean to that of a nut, it would probably not exceed a few ounces, although the master of the house said he must have burned hundreds of them.
In answer to various questions, it does not appear that it can be the interest of anyone to frighten them from the house. The house is so isolated, and there are no mischievous boys about, and no one has been near the house. No broken panes were observed, through which the pellets of butter could be introduced, nor does it seem likely they could have come from without, as they were found in the chambers, and inside two other small rooms down stairs, and at the time our reporter was present there were fourteen or fifteen bits collected together, a few of which were brought to Manchester, and there can. be no doubt of its really being butter, from various tests; there were four or five bits adhering to the front of the mahogany drawers; two upon a bookcase, one of them on the glass; three on a waistcoat belonging to the younger brother, the schoolmaster, and three on the holly boughs. one on the frame of a sampler, and another or two on the weaving rooms, inside.
That there can be no such thing as butter springing out of glass, is evident enough; the whole must, of course, be a trick, but it has hitherto been so ingeniously accomplished, that the perpetrator of the deception is undiscovered. The bits of butter are very varied in shape, and although some of them have an appearance which would suggest the probability of their being sucked in the mouth and then ejected, yet others are so irregularly shaped as to preclude any such supposition. One thing was noticeable, however, that some of them had struck the surface obliquely (as drops of rain do when falling against vertical panes of glass,) and thus slid along a little, and thus left a mark at the point of first contact. This ought to have been sufficient to have prevented the idea which the old people seem to entertain, that the substance might possibly grow where it was found. The young girl does not appear to have anything about her indicative of the artfulness which a series of tricks of this kind would imply. The manner in which the old man and woman speak about the circumstances, and seem to be affected by them, would lead even an observer of the deceptiveness of human nature to acquit them of any participation in the fraud. Probably the reader of the above will think that the “schoolmaster'' is the most likely person to explain the matter.
I’ve found nothing that takes this story any further, so perhaps the oleaginous mystery came to a swift end. All I can add is, I’m betting that for years afterward, anyone at the Warburton dinner table who said “Pass the butter” got a swift kick in the shins.
