Now, 'tis said that this Parson Polkinghorne had power, also, over the spirits of air, or whatever they be, that usually raise the wind, when ghosts are laid; for on this night all was so quietly done that the weather was not, for a wonder, uncommonly stormy. The I'an's ghosts, however, were settled, that's certain; they met with their match at last, and quitted their old habitation for good. From that night their old house was quiet and remained so for a few years, then part of it was again haunted by the ghost of a crazy spinster called 'Bitha (Tabitha) who also became insane from grief at her sweetheart's untimely end. But this spirit gave little trouble, compared with the former ones, and took its departure in a few years, of its own accord; at least we never heard of anything having being done to "lay" it.
About sixty years ago these almost forgotten traditions were revived. One Sunday afternoon, in summer time, a carriage arrived in Treen, stopped near the I'an's house, and a middle-aged gentleman stepped from the conveyance just as an old man drew near, who saluted the visitor, and asked if he would be pleased to accept of his services to show him the Castle? The stranger replied, in but indifferent English, that he would like to know if there were any remains in Treen of an ancient mansion, or castle, that once belonged to a family called I'an or Ivan, as he spelt it for Uncle George, who was a most intelligent old guide and the best chronicler of Treen.
"Why, there's the dwelling," said he, "that old people always called the I'an's house, though young ones, thinking to improve the name, have lately called it the John's house; but no family called Johns were ever proprietors of it that I ever heard of."
The gentleman looked at the old house, and said that he expected to find a much grander one.
"Yet, in its day, that was considered far above the common," Uncle George remarked; "and it must have cost much to build when no wheel-carriages were in use, and timber had to be dogged (dragged) many miles through narrow lanes, and stones and other materials were carried on drays, or on horses' backs. Besides, where you see nothing now but pigs'-crows and turf-ricks," continued he, in conducting the visitor towards the house, "there was once a large green-court; and at the back where you will find little else but dung-pits and heaps of rubbish, there were more buildings belonging to the house, with a large walled garden and a rabbit warren beyond."