The Ghost of Orange House
© Virginia Marin
Every Halloween, and only then, the Ghost of Orange House makes its year-round presence known to the locals of Orange, a small hamlet, located on the Rhone River north of Avignon. This was the seat of William of Orange. His ancestors had acquired it through marriage and to this day vestiges of the House of Orange still carry his bloodline.
The country folk of Avignon tell many tales about an uncommonly persistent poltergeist which haunts the great estate of William of Orange. Many believe it to be the Stampford Ghost which, in the early 1800's, had haunted a thatched house at Stampford Peverell, Devon, for about three years before the house mysteriously burned to the ground.
After the Devon house was destroyed, tales were told of a ghost flying through the night skies. Restless and with no place to haunt, the country folk believed it to have crossed the waters of the channel from England to Avignon looking for a haunt.
And, indeed, it had. Following the Rhone River north, the ghost saw in the distance a huge orange brick house which appeared to be without occupants, though its state of occupancy would have made no difference. It circled the great structure three times, then its gray form oozed inside.
But this phantom of the night was not alone. Orange House was occupied. In one of the great bedchambers slept William of Orange and his wife Mary who were awakened by strange noises not usual to the night.
William and Mary, upon investigating, stood in morbid fear, in the entry of the drawing room, as they observed their curtains in a state of agitation, strange levitations and priceless articles of antiquity moving about from one place to another, seemingly, of their own ability.
Suddenly, and without malice, a gray body-like form hovered so closely to them that even the imaginary breath of this adversary could be felt on their cheeks.
"W-w-who are you? W-w-what do you want with us?" cried William.
Mary, in her sleeping bonnet, clutched her husband from behind and peeped around his huge night-clad figure.
"I am Gerard of Athee," the apparition told him, then added haughtily, "surf from Touraine, literally as well as figuratively, I might say. It has been given to me, since the year of my death in 1213, the task of overseeing the sale of goods at events coinciding with local autumn harvest fairs."
With an air of having not heard his remark, Mary looked around her at the disarray caused by their uninvited guest, then spoke, neither to William nor to the ghost...
