who, upon
the thirteenth of October 1849, met, and took up their residence in the
King's own rooms. His Majesty's bed-chamber they made their kitchen; the
council-hall, their pantry; and the presence-chamber was the place where
they sat for the dispatch of business. His Majesty's dining room they
made their wood-yard, and stored it with the wood of the famous royal
oak, from the high park; which, that nothing might be left with the name
of the King about it, they had dug up by the roots, and split, and
bundled up into faggots for their firing.

Things being thus prepared, they sat on the 16th of the same month for
the dispatch of business; and in the midst of their first debate, there
entered a large black dog, as they thought, which made a dreadful
howling, overturned two or three of their chairs, and then crept under a
bed, and vanished. This gave them the greater surprise, as the doors
were kept constantly locked, so that no real dog could get in or out.
The next day, their surprise was increased; when, sitting at dinner in a
lower room, they heard plainly the noise of persons walking over their
heads, though they well knew the doors were all locked, and there could
be nobody there. Presently after, they heard also all the wood of the
King's oak brought by parcels from the dining-room, and thrown with
great violence into the chamber; as also the chairs, stools, tables, and
other furniture, forcibly hurled about the room; their own papers of the
minutes of their transactions torn; and the ink-glass broken. When this
noise had some time ceased, Giles Sharp, their Secretary, proposed to
enter first into these rooms; and, in presence of the Commissioners, of
whom he received the key, he opened the doors, and found the wood spread
about the room, the chairs tossed about, and broken, the papers torn,
and the ink-glass broken (as has been said); but not the least track of
any human creature, nor the least reason to suspect one, as the doors
were all fast, and the keys in the custody of the Commissioners. It was
therefore unanimously agreed, that the power who did this mischief must
have entered the room at the key-hole.

The night following, Sharp, the Secretary, with two of the
Commissioners' servants, as they were in bed in the same room (which
room was contiguous to that where the Commissioners lay), had their
beds' feet lifted so much higher than their heads, that they expected to
have their necks broken; and then they