True Irish Ghost Stories
by unknown · English · Gutenberg #14099 · 320,476 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of True Irish Ghost Stories
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: True Irish Ghost Stories
Compiler: St. John D. Seymour
Harry Neligan
Release date: November 20, 2004 [eBook #14099]
Most recently updated: October 28, 2024
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14099
Credits: Produced by Clare Boothby, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRUE IRISH GHOST STORIES ***
TRUE IRISH GHOST STORIES
COMPILED BY
ST JOHN D. SEYMOUR, B.D.
AUTHOR OF "IRISH WITCHCRAFT AND DEMONOLOGY" ETC.
AND
HARRY L. NELIGAN, D.I.R.I.C.
1914
TO THREE LIVELY POLTERGEISTS W----, J----, AND G----, THIS BOOK IS
DEDICATED BY THE COMPILERS
FOREWORD
This book had its origin on this wise. In my _Irish Witchcraft and
Demonology_, published in October 1913, I inserted a couple of famous
17th century ghost stories which described how lawsuits were set on foot
at the instigation of most importunate spirits. It then occurred to me
that as far as I knew there was no such thing in existence as a book of
Irish ghost stories. Books on Irish fairy and folk-lore there were in
abundance--some of which could easily be spared--but there was no book of
ghosts. And so I determined to supply this sad omission.
In accordance with the immortal recipe for making hare-soup I had first
to obtain my ghost stories. Where was I to get them from? For myself I
knew none worth publishing, nor had I ever had any strange experiences,
while I feared that my friends and acquaintances were in much the
same predicament. Suddenly a brilliant thought struck me. I wrote out a
letter, stating exactly what I wanted, and what I did _not_ want, and
requesting the readers of it either to forward me ghost stories, or else
to put me in the way of getting them: this letter was sent to the
principal Irish newspapers on October 27, and published on October 29,
and following days.
I confess I was a little doubtful as to the result of my experiment, and
wondered what response the people of Ireland would make to a letter which
might place a considerable amount of trouble on their shoulders. My mind
was speedily set at rest. On October 30, the first answers reached me.
Within a fortnight I had sufficient material to make a book; within a
month I had so much material that I could pick and choose--and more was
promised. Further on in this preface I give a list of those persons whose
contributions I have made use of, but here I should like to take the
opportunity of thanking all those ladies and gentlemen throughout the
length and breadth of Ireland, the majority of whom were utter strangers
to me, who went to the trouble of sitting down and writing out page after
page of stories. I cannot forget their kindness, and I am only sorry that
I could not make use of more of the matter that was sent to me. As one
would expect, this material varied in value and extent. Some persons
contributed incidents, of little use by themselves, but which worked in
as helpful illustrations, while others forwarded budgets of stories,
long and short. To sift the mass of matter, and bring the various
portions of it into proper sequence, would have been a lengthy and
difficult piece of work had I not been ably assisted by Mr. Harry L.
Neligan, D.I.; but I leave it as a pleasant task to the Higher Critic to
discover what portions of the book were done by him, and what should be
attributed to me.
Some of the replies that reached me were sufficiently amusing. One
gentleman, who carefully signed himself "Esquire," informed me that he
was "after" reading a great book of ghost stories, but several letters of
mine failed to elicit any subsequent information. Another person offered
to _sell_ me ghost stories, while several proffered tales that had been
worked up comically. One lady addressed a card to me as follows:
"THE REVD. ----
(Name and address lost of the clergyman whose letter appeared lately in
_Irish Times, re_ "apparitions")
CAPPAWHITE."
As the number of clergy in the above village who deal in ghost stories is
strictly limited, the Post Office succeeded in delivering it safely. I
wrote at once in reply, and got a story. In a letter bearing the Dublin
postmark a correspondent, veiled in anonymity, sent me a religious tract
with the curt note, "_Re_ ghost stories, will you please read this." I
did so, but still fail to see the sender's point of view. Another person
in a neighbouring parish declared that if I were their rector they would
forthwith leave my church, and attend service elsewhere. There are many,
I fear, who adopt this attitude; but it will soon become out of date.
Some of my readers may cavil at the expression, "_True_ Ghost Stories."
For myself I cannot guarantee the genuineness of a single incident in
this book--how could I, as none of them are my own personal experience?
This at least I _can_ vouch for, that the majority of the stories were
sent to me as first or second-hand experiences by ladies and gentlemen
whose statement on an ordinary matter of fact would be accepted without
question. And further, in order to prove the _bona fides_ of this book, I
make the following offer. The original letters and documents are in my
custody at Donohil Rectory, and I am perfectly willing to allow any
responsible person to examine them, subject to certain restrictions,
these latter obviously being that names of people and places must not be
divulged, for I regret to say that in very many instances my
correspondents have laid this burden upon me. This is to be the more
regretted, because the use of blanks, or fictitious initials, makes
a story appear much less convincing than if real names had been employed.
Just one word. I can imagine some of my readers (to be numbered by the
thousand, I hope) saying to themselves: "Oh! Mr. Seymour has left out
some of the best stories. Did he never hear of such-and-such a haunted
house, or place?" Or, "I could relate an experience better than anything
he has got." If such there be, may I beg of them to send me on their
stories with all imagined speed, as they may be turned to account at
some future date.
I beg to return thanks to the following for permission to make use of
matter in their publications: Messrs. Sealy, Bryers, and Walker,
proprietors of the _New Ireland Review_; the editor of the _Review of
Reviews_; the editor of the _Proceedings_ of the Society for Psychical
Research; the editor of the _Journal_ of the American S.P.R.; the editor
of the _Occult Review_, and Mr. Elliott O'Donnell; Messrs. Longmans,
Green and Co., and Mrs. Andrew Lang; the editor of the _Wide World
Magazine_; the representatives of the late Rev. Dr. Craig.
In accordance with the promise made in my letter, I have now much
pleasure in giving the names of the ladies and gentlemen who have
contributed to, or assisted in, the compilation of this book, and as well
to assure them that Mr. Neligan and I are deeply grateful to them for
their kindness.
Mrs. S. Acheson, Drumsna, Co. Roscommon; Mrs. M. Archibald, Cliftonville
Road, Belfast; J.J. Burke, Esq., U.D.C., Rahoon, Galway; Capt. R.
Beamish, Passage West, Co. Cork; Mrs. A. Bayly, Woodenbridge, Co.
Wicklow; R. Blair, Esq., South Shields; Jas. Byrne, Esq.,
Castletownroche, Co. Cork; Mrs. Kearney Brooks, Killarney; H. Buchanan,
Esq., Inishannon, Co. Cork; J.A. Barlow, Esq., Bray, Co. Wicklow; J.
Carton, Esq., King's Inns Library, Dublin; Miss A. Cooke, Cappagh House,
Co. Limerick; J.P.V. Campbell, Esq. _Solicitor_, Dublin; Rev. E.G.S.
Crosthwait, M.A., Littleton, Thurles; J. Crowley, Esq., Munster and
Leinster Bank, Cashel; Miss C.M. Doyle, Ashfield Road, Dublin; J. Ralph
Dagg, Esq., Baltinglass; Gerald A. Dillon, Esq., Wicklow; Matthias and
Miss Nan Fitzgerald, Cappagh House, Co. Limerick; Lord Walter Fitzgerald,
Kilkea Castle; Miss Finch, Rushbrook, Co. Cork; Rev. H.R.B. Gillespie,
M.A., Aghacon Rectory, Roscrea; Miss Grene, Grene Park, Co. Tipperary;
L.H. Grubb, Esq. J.P., D.L., Ardmayle, Co. Tipperary; H. Keble Gelston,
Esq., Letterkenny; Ven. J.A. Haydn, LL.D., Archdeacon of Limerick; Miss
Dorothy Hamilton, Portarlington; Richard Hogan, Esq., Bowman St.,
Limerick; Mrs. G. Kelly, Rathgar, Dublin; Miss Keefe, Carnahallia, Doon;
Rev. D.B. Knox, Whitehead, Belfast; Rev. J.D. Kidd, M.A., Castlewellan;
E.B. de Lacy, Esq., Marlboro' Road, Dublin; Miss K. Lloyd, Shinrone,
King's Co.; Canon Lett, M.A., Aghaderg Rectory; T. MacFadden, Esq.,
Carrigart, Co. Donegal; Wm. Mackey, Esq., Strabane; Canon Courtenay
Moore, M.A., Mitchelstown, Co. Cork; J. McCrossan, Esq., _Journalist_,
Strabane; G.H. Miller, Esq., J.P., Edgeworthstown; Mrs. P.C.F. Magee,
Dublin; Rev. R.D. Paterson, B.A., Ardmore Rectory; E.A. Phelps, Esq.,
Trinity College Library; Mrs. Pratt, Munster and Leinster Bank,
Rathkeale; Miss Pim, Monkstown, Co. Dublin; Miss B. Parker, Passage West,
Co. Cork; Henry Reay, Esq., Harold's Cross, Dublin; M.J. Ryan, Esq.,
Taghmon, Co. Wexford; P. Ryan, Esq., Nicker, Pallasgrean; Canon
Ross-Lewin, Kilmurry, Limerick; Miss A. Russell, Elgin Road, Dublin;
Lt.-Col. the Hon. F. Shore, Thomastown, Co. Kilkenny; Mrs. Seymour,
Donohil Rectory; Mrs. E.L. Stritch, North Great Georges St., Dublin;
M.C.R. Stritch, Esq., Belturbet; Very Rev. the Dean of St. Patrick's.
D.D.; Mrs. Spratt, Thurles; W.S. Thompson, Esq., Inishannon, Co. Cork;
Mrs, Thomas, Sandycove, Dublin; Mrs. Walker, Glenbeigh, Co. Kerry; Miss
Wolfe, Skibbereen, Co. Cork; Mrs. E. Welsh, Nenagh; T.J. Westropp, Esq.,
M.A., M.R.I.A., Sandymount, Dublin; Mrs. M.A. Wilkins, Rathgar, Dublin;
John Ward, Esq., Ballymote; Mrs. Wrench, Ballybrack, Co. Dublin; Miss
K.E. Younge, Upper Oldtown, Rathdowney.
ST. JOHN D. SEYMOUR.
DONOHIL RECTORY,
CAPPAWHITE, TIPPERARY,
_February 2_, 1914.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. HAUNTED HOUSES IN OR NEAR DUBLIN
II. HAUNTED HOUSES IN CONN'S HALF
III. HAUNTED HOUSES IN MOGH'S HALF
IV. POLTERGEISTS
V. HAUNTED PLACES
VI. APPARITIONS AT OR AFTER DEATH
VII. BANSHEES, AND OTHER DEATH-WARNINGS
VIII. MISCELLANEOUS SUPERNORMAL EXPERIENCES
IX. LEGENDARY AND ANCESTRAL GHOSTS
X. MISTAKEN IDENTITY--CONCLUSION
TRUE IRISH GHOST STORIES
CHAPTER I
HAUNTED HOUSES IN OR NEAR DUBLIN
Of all species of ghostly phenomena, that commonly known as "haunted
houses" appeals most to the ordinary person. There is something very
eerie in being shut up within the four walls of a house with a ghost. The
poor human being is placed at such a disadvantage. If we know that a
gateway, or road, or field has the reputation of being haunted, we can in
nearly every case make a detour, and so avoid the unpleasant locality.
But the presence of a ghost in a house creates a very different state of
affairs. It appears and disappears at its own sweet will, with a total
disregard for our feelings: it seems to be as much part and parcel of the
domicile as the staircase or the hall door, and, consequently, nothing
short of leaving the house or of pulling it down (both of these solutions
are not always practicable) will free us absolutely from the unwelcome
presence.
There is also something so natural, and at the same time so unnatural, in
seeing a door open when we know that no human hand rests on the knob, or
in hearing the sound of footsteps, light or heavy, and feeling that it
cannot be attributed to the feet of mortal man or woman. Or perhaps a
form appears in a room, standing, sitting, or walking--in fact, situated
in its three dimensions apparently as an ordinary being of flesh and
blood, until it proves its unearthly nature by vanishing before our
astonished eyes. Or perhaps we are asleep in bed. The room is shrouded
in darkness, and our recumbent attitude, together with the weight of
bed-clothes, hampers our movements and probably makes us more cowardly. A
man will meet pain or danger boldly if he be standing upright--occupying
that erect position which is his as Lord of Creation; but his courage
does not well so high if he be supine. We are awakened suddenly by the
feel that some superhuman Presence is in the room. We are transfixed with
terror, we cannot find either the bell-rope or the matches, while we
_dare_ not leap out of bed and make a rush for the door lest we should
encounter we know not what. In an agony of fear, we feel it moving
towards us; it approaches closer, and yet closer, to the bed, and--for
what may or may not then happen we must refer our readers to the pages of
this book.
But the sceptical reader will say: "This is all very well, but--there are
_no_ haunted houses. All these alleged strange happenings are due to a
vivid imagination, or else to rats and mice." (The question of deliberate
and conscious fraud may be rejected in almost every instance.) This
simple solution has been put forward so often that it should infallibly
have solved the problem long ago. But will such a reader explain how it
is that the noise made by rats and mice can resemble slow, heavy
footsteps, or else take the form of a human being seen by several
persons; or how our imagination can cause doors to open and shut, or else
create a conglomeration of noises which, physically, would be beyond the
power of ordinary individuals to reproduce? Whatever may be the ultimate
explanation, we feel that there is a great deal in the words quoted by
Professor Barrett: "In spite of all reasonable scepticism, it is
difficult to avoid accepting, at least provisionally, the conclusion that
there are, in a certain sense, haunted houses, _i.e._ that there are
houses in which similar quasi-human apparitions have occurred at
different times to different inhabitants, under circumstances which
exclude the hypothesis of suggestion or expectation."
We must now turn to the subject of this chapter. Mrs. G. Kelly, a lady
well known in musical circles in Dublin, sends as her own personal
experience the following tale of a most quiet haunting, in which the
spectral charwoman (!) does not seem to have entirely laid aside all her
mundane habits.
"My first encounter with a ghost occurred about twenty years ago. On that
occasion I was standing in the kitchen of my house in ---- Square, when a
woman, whom I was afterwards to see many times, walked down the stairs
into the room. Having heard the footsteps outside, I was not in the least
perturbed, but turned to look who it was, and found myself looking at a
tall, stout, elderly woman, wearing a bonnet and old-fashioned mantle.
She had grey hair, and a benign and amiable expression. We stood gazing
at each other while one could count twenty. At first I was not at all
frightened, but gradually as I stood looking at her an uncomfortable
feeling, increasing to terror, came over me. This caused me to retreat
farther and farther back, until I had my back against the wall, and then
the apparition slowly faded.
"This feeling of terror, due perhaps to the unexpectedness of her
appearance, always overcame me on the subsequent occasions on which I
saw her. These occasions numbered twelve or fifteen, and I have seen her
in every room in the house, and at every hour of the day, during a period
of about ten years. The last time she appeared was ten years ago. My
husband and I had just returned from a concert at which he had been
singing, and we sat for some time over supper, talking about the events
of the evening. When at last I rose to leave the room, and opened the
dining-room door, I found my old lady standing on the mat outside with
her head bent towards the door in the attitude of listening. I called
out loudly, and my husband rushed to my side. That was the last time I
have seen her."
"One peculiarity of this spectral visitant was a strong objection to
disorder or untidyness of any kind, or even to an alteration in the
general routine of the house. For instance, she showed her disapproval of
any stranger coming to sleep by turning the chairs face downwards on the
floor in the room they were to occupy. I well remember one of our guests,
having gone to his room one evening for something he had forgotten,
remarking on coming downstairs again, 'Well, you people have an
extraordinary manner of arranging your furniture! I have nearly broken my
bones over one of the bedroom chairs which was turned down on the floor.'
As my husband and I had restored that chair twice already to its proper
position during the day, we were not much surprised at his remarks,
although we did not enlighten him. The whole family have been disturbed
by a peculiar knocking which occurred in various rooms in the house,
frequently on the door or wall, but sometimes on the furniture, quite
close to where we had been sitting. This was evidently loud enough to be
heard in the next house, for our next-door neighbour once asked my
husband why he selected such curious hours for hanging his pictures.
Another strange and fairly frequent occurrence was the following. I had
got a set of skunk furs which I fancied had an unpleasant odour, as this
fur sometimes has; and at night I used to take it from my wardrobe and
lay it on a chair in the drawing-room, which was next my bedroom. The
first time that I did this, on going to the drawing-room I found, to my
surprise, my muff in one corner and my stole in another. Not for a moment
suspecting a supernatural agent, I asked my servant about it, and she
assured me that she had not been in the room that morning. Whereupon I
determined to test the matter, which I did by putting in the furs late at
night, and taking care that I was the first to enter the room in the
morning. I invariably found that they had been disturbed."
The following strange and pathetic incident occurred in a well-known
Square in the north side of the city. In or about a hundred years ago a
young officer was ordered to Dublin, and took a house there for himself
and his family. He sent on his wife and two children, intending to join
them in the course of a few days. When the latter and the nurse arrived,
they found only the old charwoman in the house, and she left shortly
after their arrival. Finding that something was needed, the nurse went
out to purchase it. On her return she asked the mother were the children
all right, as she had seen two ghostly forms flit past her on the
door-step! The mother answered that she believed they were, but on going
up to the nursery they found both the children with their throats cut.
The murderer was never brought to justice, and no motive was ever
discovered for the crime. The unfortunate mother went mad, and it is said
that an eerie feeling still clings to the house, while two little heads
are sometimes seen at the window of the room where the deed was
committed.
A most weird experience fell to the lot of Major Macgregor, and was
contributed by him to _Real Ghost Stories_, the celebrated Christmas
number of the _Review of Reviews_. He says: "In the end of 1871 I went
over to Ireland to visit a relative living in a Square in the north side
of Dublin. In January 1872 the husband of my relative fell ill. I sat up
with him for several nights, and at last, as he seemed better, I went to
bed, and directed the footman to call me if anything went wrong. I soon
fell asleep, but some time after was awakened by a push on the left
shoulder. I started up, and said, 'Is there anything wrong?' I got no
answer, but immediately received another push. I got annoyed, and said
'Can you not speak, man! and tell me if there is anything wrong.' Still
no answer, and I had a feeling I was going to get another push when I
suddenly turned round and caught a human hand, warm, plump, and soft. I
said, 'Who are you?' but I got no answer. I then tried to pull the person
towards me, but could not do so. I then said, 'I _will_ know who you
are!' and having the hand tight in my right hand, with my left I felt the
wrist and arm, enclosed, as it seemed to me, in a tight-fitting sleeve of
some winter material with a linen cuff, but when I got to the elbow all
trace of an arm ceased. I was so astounded that I let the hand go, and
just then the clock struck two. Including the mistress of the house,
there were five females in the establishment, and I can assert that the
hand belonged to none of them. When I reported the adventure, the
servants exclaimed, 'Oh, it must have been the master's old Aunt Betty,
who lived for many years in the upper part of that house, and had died
over fifty years before at a great age.' I afterwards heard that the room
in which I felt the hand had been considered haunted, and very curious
noises and peculiar incidents occurred, such as the bed-clothes torn off,
&c. One lady got a slap in the face from some invisible hand, and when
she lit her candle she saw as if something opaque fell or jumped off
the bed. A general officer, a brother of the lady, slept there two
nights, but preferred going to a hotel to remaining the third night. He
never would say what he heard or saw, but always said the room was
uncanny. I slept for months in the room afterwards, and was never in the
least disturbed."
A truly terrifying sight was witnessed by a clergyman in a school-house a
good many years ago. This cleric was curate of a Dublin parish, but
resided with his parents some distance out of town in the direction of
Malahide. It not infrequently happened that he had to hold meetings in
the evenings, and on such occasions, as his home was so far away, and as
the modern convenience of tramcars was not then known, he used to sleep
in the schoolroom, a large bare room, where the meetings were held. He
had made a sleeping-apartment for himself by placing a pole across one
end of the room, on which he had rigged up two curtains which, when drawn
together, met in the middle. One night he had been holding some meeting,
and when everybody had left he locked up the empty schoolhouse, and went
to bed. It was a bright moonlight night, and every object could be seen
perfectly clearly. Scarcely had he got into bed when he became conscious
of some invisible presence. Then he saw the curtains agitated at one end,
as if hands were grasping them on the outside. In an agony of terror he
watched these hands groping along outside the curtains till they reached
the middle. The curtains were then drawn a little apart, and a Face
peered in--an awful, evil Face, with an expression of wickedness and hate
upon it which no words could describe. It looked at him for a few
moments, then drew back again, and the curtains closed. The clergyman
had sufficient courage left to leap out of bed and make a thorough
examination of the room, but, as he expected, he found no one. He dressed
himself as quickly as possible, walked home, and never again slept a
night in that schoolroom.
The following tale, sent by Mr. E. B. de Lacy, contains a most
extraordinary and unsatisfactory element of mystery. He says: "When I was
a boy I lived in the suburbs, and used to come in every morning to school
in the city. My way lay through a certain street in which stood a very
dismal semi-detached house, which, I might say, was closed up regularly
about every six months. I would see new tenants coming into it, and then
in a few months it would be 'To let' again. This went on for eight or
nine years, and I often wondered what was the reason. On inquiring one
day from a friend, I was told that it had the reputation of being
haunted.
"A few years later I entered business in a certain office, and one day it
fell to my lot to have to call on the lady who at that particular period
was the tenant of the haunted house. When we had transacted our business
she informed me that she was about to leave. Knowing the reputation of
the house, and being desirous of investigating a ghost-story, I asked her
if she would give me the history of the house as far as she knew it,
which she very kindly did as follows:
"About forty years ago the house was left by will to a gentleman
named ----. He lived in it for a short time, when he suddenly went mad,
and had to be put in an asylum. Upon this his agents let the house to a
lady. Apparently nothing unusual happened for some time, but a few months
later, as she went down one morning to a room behind the kitchen, she
found the cook hanging by a rope attached to a hook in the ceiling. After
the inquest the lady gave up the house.
"It was then closed up for some time, but was again advertised 'To let,'
and a caretaker, a woman, was put into it. One night about one o'clock, a
constable going his rounds heard some one calling for help from the
house, and found the caretaker on the sill of one of the windows holding
on as best she could. He told her to go in and open the hall door and let
him in, but she refused to enter the room again. He forced open the door
and succeeded in dragging the woman back into the room, only to find she
had gone mad.
"Again the house was shut up, and again it was let, this time to a lady,
on a five-years' lease. However, after a few months' residence, she
locked it up, and went away. On her friends asking her why she did so,
she replied that she would rather pay the whole five years' rent than
live in it herself, or allow anyone else to do so, but would give no
other reason.
"'I believe I was the next person to take this house,' said the lady who
narrated the story to me (_i.e._ Mr. de Lacy). 'I took it about eighteen
months ago on a three years' lease in the hopes of making money by taking
in boarders, but I am now giving it up because none of them will stay
more than a week or two. They do not give any definite reason as to why
they are leaving; they are careful to state that it is not because they
have any fault to find with me or my domestic arrangements, but they
merely say _they do not like the rooms_! The rooms themselves, as you can
see, are good, spacious, and well lighted. I have had all classes of
professional men; one of the last was a barrister, and he said that he
had no fault to find except that _he did not like the rooms_! I myself do
not believe in ghosts, and I have never seen anything strange here or
elsewhere; and if I had known the house had the reputation of being
haunted, I would never have rented it."
Marsh's library, that quaint, old-world repository of ponderous tomes, is
reputed to be haunted by the ghost of its founder, Primate Narcissus
Marsh. He is said to frequent the inner gallery, which contains what was
formerly his own private library: he moves in and out among the cases,
taking down books from the shelves, and occasionally throwing them down
on the reader's desk as if in anger. However, he always leaves things in
perfect order. The late Mr. ----, who for some years lived in the
librarian's rooms underneath, was a firm believer in this ghost, and said
he frequently heard noises which could only be accounted for by the
presence of a nocturnal visitor; the present tenant is more sceptical.
The story goes that Marsh's niece eloped from the Palace, and was married
in a tavern to the curate of Chapelizod. She is reported to have written
a note consenting to the elopement, and to have then placed it in one of
her uncle's books to which her lover had access, and where he found it.
As a punishment for his lack of vigilance, the Archbishop is said to be
condemned to hunt for the note until he find it--hence the ghost.
The ghost of a deceased Canon was seen in one of the Dublin cathedrals
by several independent witnesses, one of whom, a lady, gives her own
experience as follows: "Canon ---- was a personal friend of mine, and
we had many times discussed ghosts and spiritualism, in which he was a
profound believer, having had many supernatural experiences himself.
It was during the Sunday morning service in the cathedral that I saw
my friend, who had been dead for two years, sitting inside the
communion-rails. I was so much astonished at the flesh-and blood
appearance of the figure that I took off my glasses and wiped them with
my handkerchief, at the same time looking away from him down the church.
On looking back again he was still there, and continued to sit there for
about ten or twelve minutes, after which he faded away. I remarked a
change in his personal appearance, which was, that his beard was longer
and whiter than when I had known him--in fact, such a change as would
have occurred _in life_ in the space of two years. Having told my
husband of the occurrence on our way home, he remembered having heard
some talk of an appearance of this clergyman in the cathedral since his
death. He hurried back to the afternoon service, and asked the robestress
if anybody had seen Canon ----'s ghost. She informed him that _she_ had,
and that he had also been seen by one of the sextons in the cathedral. I
mention this because in describing his personal appearance she had
remarked the same change as I had with regard to the beard."
Some years ago a family had very uncanny experiences in a house in
Rathgar, and subsequently in another in Rathmines. These were
communicated by one of the young ladies to Mrs. M. A. Wilkins, who
published them in the _Journal_ of the American S.P.R.,[1] from which
they are here taken. The Rathgar house had a basement passage leading to
a door into the yard, and along this passage her mother and the children
used to hear dragging, limping steps, and the latch of the door rattling,
but no one could ever be found when search was made. The house-bells were
old and all in a row, and on one occasion they all rang, apparently of
their own accord. The lady narrator used to sleep in the back drawing
room, and always when the light was put out she heard strange noises, as
if some one was going round the room rubbing paper along the wall, while
she often had the feeling that a person was standing beside her bed. A
cousin, who was a nurse, once slept with her, and also noticed these
strange noises. On one occasion this room was given up to a very
matter-of-fact young man to sleep in, and next morning he said that the
room was very strange, with queer noises in it.
[Footnote 1: For September 1913.]
Her mother also had an extraordinary experience in the same house. One
evening she had just put the baby to bed, when she heard a voice calling
"mother." She left the bedroom, and called to her daughter, who was in a
lower room, "What do you want?" But the girl replied that she had _not_
called her; and then, in her turn, asked her mother if _she_ had been in
the front room, for she had just heard a noise as if some one was trying
to fasten the inside bars of the shutters across. But her mother had been
upstairs, and no one was in the front room. The experiences in the
Rathmines house were of a similar auditory nature, _i.e._ the young
ladies heard their names called, though it was found that no one in the
house had done so.
Occasionally it happens that ghosts inspire a law-suit. In the
seventeenth century they were to be found actively urging the adoption of
legal proceedings, but in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries they
play a more passive part. A case about a haunted house took place in
Dublin in the year 1885, in which the ghost may be said to have won. A
Mr. Waldron, a solicitor's clerk, sued his next-door neighbour, one
Mr. Kiernan, a mate in the merchant service, to recover £500 for damages
done to his house.
Kiernan altogether denied the charges, but asserted that Waldron's house
was notoriously haunted. Witnesses proved that every night, from August
1884 to January 1885, stones were thrown at the windows and doors, and
extraordinary and inexplicable occurrences constantly took place.
Mrs. Waldron, wife of the plaintiff, swore that one night she saw one of
the panes of glass of a certain window cut through with a diamond, and a
white hand inserted through the hole. She at once caught up a bill-hook
and aimed a blow at the hand, cutting off one of the fingers. This finger
could not be found, nor were any traces of blood seen.
A servant of hers was sorely persecuted by noises and the sound of
footsteps. Mr. Waldron, with the aid of detectives and policemen,
endeavoured to find out the cause, but with no success. The witnesses
in the case were closely cross-examined, but without shaking their
testimony. The facts appeared to be proved, so the jury found for
Kiernan, the defendant. At least twenty persons had testified on oath to
the fact that the house had been known to have been haunted.[2]
[Footnote 2: See _Sights and Shadows_, p. 42 ff.]
Before leaving the city and its immediate surroundings, we must relate
the story of an extraordinary ghost, somewhat lacking in good manners,
yet not without a certain distorted sense of humour. Absolutely
incredible though the tale may seem, yet it comes on very good authority.
It was related to our informant, Mr. D., by a Mrs. C., whose daughter he
had employed as governess. Mrs. C., who is described as "a woman of
respectable position and good education," heard it in her turn from her
father and mother. In the story the relationship of the different persons
seems a little involved, but it would appear that the initial A belongs
to the surname both of Mrs. C.'s father and grandfather.
This ghost was commonly called "Corney" by the family, and he answered to
this though it was not his proper name. He disclosed this latter to Mr.
C.'s mother, who forgot it. Corney made his presence manifest to the
A---- family shortly after they had gone to reside in ---- Street in the
following manner. Mr. A---- had sprained his knee badly, and had to use a
crutch, which at night was left at the head of his bed. One night his
wife heard some one walking on the lobby, thump, thump, thump, as if
imitating Mr. A----. She struck a match to see if the crutch had been
removed from the head of the bed, but it was still there.
From that on Corney commenced to talk, and he spoke every day from his
usual habitat, the coal-cellar off the kitchen. His voice sounded as if
it came out of an empty barrel.
He was very troublesome, and continually played practical jokes on the
servants, who, as might be expected, were in terror of their lives of
him; so much so that Mrs. A---- could hardly induce them to stay with
her. They used to sleep in a press-bed in the kitchen, and in order to
get away from Corney, they asked for a room at the top of the house,
which was given to them. Accordingly the press-bed was moved up there.
The first night they went to retire to bed after the change, the doors of
the press were flung open, and Corney's voice said, "Ha! ha! you devils,
I am here before you! I am not confined to any particular part of this
house."
Corney was continually tampering with the doors, and straining locks
and keys. He only manifested himself in material form to two persons;
to ----, who died with the fright, and to Mr. A---- (Mrs. C.'s father)
when he was about seven years old. The latter described him to his mother
as a naked man, with a curl on his forehead, and a skin like a
clothes-horse(!).
One day a servant was preparing fish for dinner. She laid it on the
kitchen table while she went elsewhere for something she wanted. When she
returned the fish had disappeared. She thereupon began to cry, fearing
she would be accused of making away with it. The next thing she heard was
the voice of Corney from the coal-cellar saying, "There, you blubbering
fool, is your fish for you!" and, suiting the action to the word, the
fish was thrown out on the kitchen floor.
Relatives from the country used to bring presents of vegetables, and
these were often hung up by Corney like Christmas decorations round the
kitchen. There was one particular press in the kitchen he would not allow
anything into. He would throw it out again. A crock with meat in pickle
was put into it, and a fish placed on the cover of the crock. He threw
the fish out.
Silver teaspoons were missing, and no account of them could be got until
Mrs. A---- asked Corney to confess if he had done anything with them. He
said, "They are under the ticking in the servants' bed." He had, so he
said, a daughter in ---- Street, and sometimes announced that he was
going to see her, and would not be here to-night.
On one occasion he announced that he was going to have "company" that
evening, and if they wanted any water out of the soft-water tank, to take
it before going to bed, as he and his friends would be using it.
Subsequently that night five or six distinct voices were heard, and next
morning the water in the tank was as black as ink, and not alone that,
but the bread and butter in the pantry were streaked with the marks of
sooty fingers.
A clergyman in the locality, having heard of the doings of Corney, called
to investigate the matter. He was advised by Mrs. A---- to keep quiet,
and not to reveal his identity, as being the best chance of hearing
Corney speak. He waited a long time, and as the capricious Corney
remained silent, he left at length. The servants asked, "Corney, why did
you not speak?" and he replied, "I could not speak while that good man
was in the house." The servants sometimes used to ask him where he was.
He would reply, "The Great God would not permit me to tell you. I was a
bad man, and I died the death." He named the room in the house in which
he died.
Corney constantly joined in any conversation carried on by the people of
the house. One could never tell when a voice from the coal-cellar would
erupt into the dialogue. He had his likes and dislikes: he appeared to
dislike anyone that was not afraid of him, and would not talk to them.
Mrs. C.'s mother, however, used to get good of him by coaxing. An uncle,
having failed to get him to speak one night, took the kitchen poker, and
hammered at the door of the coal-cellar, saying, "I'll make you speak";
but Corney wouldn't. Next morning the poker was found broken in two. This
uncle used to wear spectacles, and Corney used to call him derisively,
"Four-eyes." An uncle named Richard came to sleep one night, and
complained in the morning that the clothes were pulled off him. Corney
told the servants in great glee, "I slept on Master Richard's feet all
night."
Finally Mr. A---- made several attempts to dispose of his lease, but with
no success, for when intending purchasers were being shown over the house
and arrived at Corney's domain, the spirit would begin to speak and
the would-be purchaser would fly. They asked him if they changed house
would he trouble them. He replied, "No! but if they throw down this
house, I will trouble the stones."
At last Mrs. A---- appealed to him to keep quiet, and not to injure
people who had never injured him. He promised that he would do so, and
then said, "Mrs. A----, you will be all right now, for I see a lady in
black coming up the street to this house, and she will buy it." Within
half an hour a widow called and purchased the house. Possibly Corney is
still there, for our informant looked up the Directory as he was writing,
and found the house marked "Vacant."
Near Blanchardstown, Co. Dublin, is a house, occupied at present, or up
to very recently, by a private family; it was formerly a monastery, and
there are said to be secret passages in it. Once a servant ironing in the
kitchen saw the figure of a nun approach the kitchen window and look in.
Our informant was also told by a friend (now dead), who had it from the
lady of the house, that once night falls, no doors can be kept closed.
If anyone shuts them, almost immediately they are flung open again with
the greatest violence and apparent anger. If left open there is no
trouble or noise, but light footsteps are heard, and there is a vague
feeling of people passing to and fro. The persons inhabiting the house
are matter-of-fact, unimaginative people, who speak of this as if it were
an everyday affair. "So long as we leave the doors unclosed they don't
harm us: why should we be afraid of them?" Mrs. ---- said. Truly a most
philosophical attitude to adopt!
A haunted house in Kingstown, Co. Dublin, was investigated by Professor
W. Barrett and Professor Henry Sidgwick. The story is singularly well
attested (as one might expect from its being inserted in the pages of the
_Proceedings S.P.R._[3]), as the apparition was seen on three distinct
occasions, and by three separate persons who were all personally known to
the above gentlemen. The house in which the following occurrences took
place is described as being a very old one, with unusually thick walls.
The lady saw her strange visitant in her bedroom. She says: "Disliking
cross-lights, I had got into the habit of having the blind of the back
window drawn and the shutters closed at night, and of leaving the blind
raised and the shutters opened towards the front, liking to see the trees
and sky when I awakened. Opening my eyes now one morning, I saw right
before me (this occurred in July 1873) the figure of a woman, stooping
down and apparently looking at me. Her head and shoulders were wrapped in
a common woollen shawl; her arms were folded, and they were also wrapped,
as if for warmth, in the shawl. I looked at her in my horror, and dared
not cry out lest I might move the awful thing to speech or action. Behind
her head I saw the window and the growing dawn, the looking-glass upon
the toilet-table, and the furniture in that part of the room. After what
may have been only seconds--of the duration of this vision I cannot
judge--she raised herself and went backwards towards the window, stood at
the toilet-table, and gradually vanished. I mean she grew by degrees
transparent, and that through the shawl and the grey dress she wore I saw
the white muslin of the table-cover again, and at last saw that only in
the place where she had stood." The lady lay motionless with terror until
the servant came to call her. The only other occupants of the house at
the time were her brother and the servant, to neither of whom did she
make any mention of the circumstance, fearing that the former would laugh
at her, and the latter give notice.
[Footnote 3: July 1884, p. 141.]
Exactly a fortnight later, when sitting at breakfast, she noticed
that her brother seemed out of sorts, and did not eat. On asking
him if anything were the matter, he answered, "I have had a horrid
nightmare--indeed it was no nightmare: I saw it early this morning, just
as distinctly as I see you." "What?" she asked. "A villainous-looking
hag," he replied, "with her head and arms wrapped in a cloak, stooping
over me, and looking like this--" He got up, folded his arms, and put
himself in the exact posture of the vision. Whereupon she informed him of
what she herself had seen a fortnight previously.
About four years later, in the same month, the lady's married sister and
two children were alone in the house. The eldest child, a boy of about
four or five years, asked for a drink, and his mother went to fetch it,
desiring him to remain in the dining-room until her return. Coming back
she met the boy pale and trembling, and on asking him why he left the
room, he replied, "Who is that woman--who is that woman?" "Where?" she
asked. "That old woman who went upstairs," he replied. So agitated was
he, that she took him by the hand and went upstairs to search, but no one
was to be found, though he still maintained that a woman went upstairs. A
friend of the family subsequently told them that a woman had been killed
in the house many years previously, and that it was reported to be
haunted.
CHAPTER II
HAUNTED HOUSES IN CONN'S HALF
From a very early period a division of Ireland into two "halves"
existed. This was traditionally believed to have been made by Conn
the Hundred-fighter and Mogh Nuadat, in A.D. 166. The north was in
consequence known as Conn's Half, the south as Mogh's Half, the line of
division being a series of gravel hills extending from Dublin to Galway.
This division we have followed, except that we have included the whole
of the counties of West Meath and Galway in the northern portion. We had
hoped originally to have had _four_ chapters on Haunted Houses, one for
each of the four provinces, but, for lack of material from Connaught, we
have been forced to adopt the plan on which Chapters I-III are arranged.
Mrs. Acheson, of Co. Roscommon, sends the following: "Emo House, Co.
Westmeath, a very old mansion since pulled down, was purchased by my
grandfather for his son, my father. The latter had only been living in it
for a few days when knocking commenced at the hall door. Naturally he
thought it was someone playing tricks, or endeavouring to frighten him
away. One night he had the lobby window open directly over the door. The
knocking commenced, and he looked out: it was a very bright night, and as
there was no porch he could see the door distinctly; the knocking
continued, but he did not see the knocker move. Another night he sat up
expecting his brother, but as the latter did not come he went to bed.
Finally the knocking became so loud and insistent that he felt sure his
brother must have arrived. He went downstairs and opened the door, but no
one was there. Still convinced that his brother was there and had gone
round to the yard to put up his horse, he went out; but scarcely had he
gone twenty yards from the door when the knocking recommenced behind his
back. On turning round he could see no one."
"After this the knocking got very bad, so much so that he could not rest.
All this time he did not mention the strange occurrence to anyone. One
morning he went up through the fields between four and five o'clock. To
his surprise he found the herd out feeding the cattle. My father asked
him why he was up so early. He replied that he could not sleep. 'Why?'
asked my father. 'You know why yourself, sir--the knocking.' He then
found that this man had heard it all the time, though he slept at the end
of a long house. My father was advised to take no notice of it, for it
would go as it came, though at this time it was continuous and very loud;
and so it did. The country people said it was the late resident who could
not rest."
"We had another curious and most eerie experience in this house. A former
rector was staying the night with us, and as the evening wore on we
commenced to tell ghost-stories. He related some remarkable experiences,
and as we were talking the drawing-room door suddenly opened as wide as
possible, and then slowly closed again. It was a calm night, and at any
rate it was a heavy double door which never flies open however strong the
wind may be blowing. Everyone in the house was in bed, as it was after 12
o'clock, except the three persons who witnessed this, viz. myself, my
daughter, and the rector. The effect on the latter was most marked. He
was a big, strong, jovial man and a good athlete, but when he saw the
door open he quivered like an aspen leaf."
A strange story of a haunting, in which nothing was seen, but in which
the same noises were heard by different people, is sent by one of the
percipients, who does not wish to have her name disclosed. She says:
"When staying for a time in a country house in the North of Ireland some
years ago I was awakened on several nights by hearing the tramp, tramp,
of horses' hoofs. Sometimes it sounded as if they were walking on
paving-stones, while at other times I had the impression that they were
going round a large space, and as if someone was using a whip on them. I
heard neighing, and champing of bits, and so formed the impression that
they were carriage horses. I did not mind it much at first, as I thought
the stables must be near that part of the house. After hearing these
noises several times I began to get curious, so one morning I made a tour
of the place. I found that the side of the house I occupied overlooked a
neglected garden, which was mostly used for drying clothes. I also
discovered that the stables were right at the back of the house, and so
it would be impossible for me to hear any noises in that quarter; at any
rate there was only one farm horse left, and this was securely fastened
up every night. Also there were no cobble-stones round the yard. I
mentioned what I had heard to the people of the house, but as they would
give me no satisfactory reply I passed it over. I did not hear these
noises every night."
"One night I was startled out of my sleep by hearing a dreadful
disturbance in the kitchen. It sounded as if the dish-covers were being
taken off the wall and dashed violently on the flagged floor. At length I
got up and opened the door of my bedroom, and just as I did so an
appalling crash resounded through the house. I waited to see if there was
any light to be seen, or footstep to be heard, but nobody was stirring.
There was only one servant in the house, the other persons being my host,
his wife, and a baby, who had all retired early. Next morning I described
the noises in the kitchen to the servant, and she said she had often
heard them. I then told her about the tramping of horses: she replied
that she herself had never heard it, but that other persons who had
occupied my room had had experiences similar to mine. I asked her was
there any explanation; she said No, except that a story was told of a
gentleman who had lived there some years ago, and was very much addicted
to racing and gambling, and that he was shot one night in that house. For
the remainder of my visit I was removed to another part of the house, and
I heard no more noises."
A house in the North of Ireland, near that locality which is eternally
famous as having furnished the material for the last trial for witchcraft
in the country, is said to be haunted, the reason being that it is built
on the site of a disused and very ancient graveyard. It is said that when
some repairs were being carried out nine human skulls were unearthed. It
would be interesting to ascertain how many houses in Ireland are
traditionally said to be built on such unpleasant sites, and if they all
bear the reputation of being haunted. The present writer knows of one, in
the South, which is so situated (and this is supported, to a certain
extent, by documentary evidence from the thirteenth century down) and
which in consequence has an uncanny reputation. But concerning the above
house it has been found almost impossible to get any information. It is
said that strange noises were frequently heard there, which sometimes
seemed as if cartloads of stones were being run down one of the gables.
On one occasion an inmate of the house lay dying upstairs. A friend went
up to see the sick person, and on proceeding to pass through the bedroom
door was pressed and jostled as if by some unseen person hurriedly
leaving the room. On entering, it was found that the sick person had just
passed away.
An account of a most unpleasant haunting is contributed by Mr. W. S.
Thompson, who vouches for the substantial accuracy of it, and also
furnishes the names of two men, still living, who attended the "station."
We give it as it stands, with the comment that some of the details seem
to have been grossly exaggerated by local raconteurs. In the year 1869 a
ghost made its presence manifest in the house of a Mr. M---- in Co.
Cavan. In the daytime it resided in the chimney, but at night it left its
quarters and subjected the family to considerable annoyance. During the
day they could cook nothing, as showers of soot would be sent down the
chimney on top of every pot and pan that was placed on the fire. At night
the various members of the family would be dragged out of bed by the
hair, and pulled around the house. When anyone ventured to light a lamp
it would immediately be put out, while chairs and tables would be sent
dancing round the room. At last matters reached such a pitch that the
family found it impossible to remain any longer in the house. The night
before they left Mrs. M---- was severely handled, and her boots left
facing the door as a gentle hint for her to be off. Before they departed
some of the neighbours went to the house, saw the ghost, and even
described to Mr. Thompson what they had seen. According to one man it
appeared in the shape of a human being with a pig's head with long tusks.
Another described it as a horse with an elephant's head, and a headless
man seated on its back. Finally a "station" was held at the house by
seven priests, at which all the neighbours attended. The station
commenced after sunset, and everything in the house had to be uncovered,
lest the evil spirit should find any resting-place. A free passage was
left out of the door into the street, where many people were kneeling.
About five minutes after the station opened a rumbling noise was heard,
and a black barrel rolled out with an unearthly din, though to some
coming up the street it appeared in the shape of a black horse with
a bull's head, and a headless man seated thereon. From this time the
ghost gave no further trouble.
The same gentleman also sends an account of a haunted shop in which
members of his family had some very unpleasant experiences. "In October
1882 my father, William Thompson, took over the grocery and spirit
business from a Dr. S---- to whom it had been left by will. My sister was
put in charge of the business, and she slept on the premises at night,
but she was not there by herself very long until she found things amiss.
The third night matters were made so unpleasant for her that she had to
get up out of bed more dead than alive, and go across the street to Mrs.
M----, the servant at the R.I.C. barrack, with whom she remained until
the morning. She stated that as she lay in bed, half awake and half
asleep, she saw a man enter the room, who immediately seized her by the
throat and well-nigh choked her. She had only sufficient strength left to
gasp 'Lord, save me!' when instantly the man vanished. She also said that
she heard noises as if every bottle and glass in the shop was smashed to
atoms, yet in the morning everything would be found intact. My brother
was in charge of the shop one day, as my sister had to go to Belturbet to
do some Christmas shopping. He expected her to return to the shop that
night, but as she did not do so he was preparing to go to bed about
1 A.M., when suddenly a terrible noise was heard. The light was
extinguished, and the tables and chairs commenced to dance about the
floor, and some of them struck him on the shins. Upon this he left the
house, declaring that he had seen the Devil!" Possibly this ghost had
been a rabid teetotaller in the flesh, and continued to have a dislike to
the publican's trade after he had become discarnate. At any rate the
present occupants, who follow a different avocation, do not appear to be
troubled.
Ghosts are no respecters of persons or places, and take up their quarters
where they are least expected. One can hardly imagine them entering a
R.I.C. barrack, and annoying the stalwart inmates thereof. Yet more than
one tale of a haunted police-barrack has been sent to us--nay, in its
proper place we shall relate the appearance of a deceased member of the
"Force," uniform and all! The following personal experiences are
contributed by an ex-R.I.C. constable, who requested that all names
should be suppressed. "The barrack of which I am about to speak has now
disappeared, owing to the construction of a new railway line. It was a
three-storey house, with large airy apartments and splendid
accommodation. This particular night I was on guard. After the constables
had retired to their quarters I took my palliasse downstairs to the
day-room, and laid it on two forms alongside two six-foot tables which
were placed end to end in the centre of the room."
"As I expected a patrol in at midnight, and as another had to be sent out
when it arrived, I didn't promise myself a very restful night, so I threw
myself on the bed, intending to read a bit, as there was a large lamp
on the table. Scarcely had I commenced to read when I felt as if I was
being pushed off the bed. At first I thought I must have fallen asleep,
so to make sure, I got up, took a few turns around the room, and then
deliberately lay down again and took up my book. Scarcely had I done so,
when the same thing happened, and, though I resisted with all my
strength, I was finally landed on the floor. My bed was close to the
table, and the pushing came from that side, so that if anyone was playing
a trick on me they could not do so without being under the table: I
looked, but there was no visible presence there. I felt shaky, but
changed my couch to another part of the room, and had no further
unpleasant experience. Many times after I was 'guard' in the same room,
but I always took care not to place my couch in that particular spot."
"One night, long afterwards, we were all asleep in the dormitory, when we
were awakened in the small hours of the morning by the guard rushing
upstairs, dashing through the room, and jumping into a bed in the
farthest corner behind its occupant. There he lay gasping, unable to
speak for several minutes, and even then we couldn't get a coherent
account of what befel him. It appears he fell asleep, and suddenly awoke
to find himself on the floor, and a body rolling over him. Several men
volunteered to go downstairs with him, but he absolutely refused to leave
the dormitory, and stayed there till morning. Nor would he even remain
downstairs at night without having a comrade with him. It ended in his
applying for an exchange of stations."
"Another time I returned off duty at midnight, and after my comrade, a
married Sergeant, had gone outside to his quarters I went to the kitchen
to change my boots. There was a good fire on, and it looked so
comfortable that I remained toasting my toes on the hob, and enjoying my
pipe. The lock-up was a lean-to one-storey building off the kitchen, and
was divided into two cells, one opening into the kitchen, the other into
that cell. I was smoking away quietly when I suddenly heard inside the
lock-up a dull, heavy thud, just like the noise a drunken man would make
by crashing down on all-fours. I wondered who the prisoner could be, as I
didn't see anyone that night who seemed a likely candidate for free
lodgings. However as I heard no other sound I decided I would tell the
guard in order that he might look after him. As I took my candle from the
table I happened to glance at the lock-up, and, to my surprise, I saw
that the outer door was open. My curiosity being roused, I looked inside,
to find the inner door also open. There was nothing in either cell,
except the two empty plank-beds, and these were immovable as they were
firmly fixed to the walls. I betook myself to my bedroom much quicker
than I was in the habit of doing."
"I mentioned that this barrack was demolished owing to the construction
of a new railway line. It was the last obstacle removed, and in the
meantime workmen came from all points of the compass. One day a powerful
navvy was brought into the barrack a total collapse from drink, and
absolutely helpless. After his neckwear was loosened he was carried to
the lock-up and laid on the plank-bed, the guard being instructed to
visit him periodically, lest he should smother. He was scarcely half an
hour there--this was in the early evening--when the most unmerciful
screaming brought all hands to the lock-up, to find the erstwhile
helpless man standing on the plank-bed, and grappling with a, to us,
invisible foe. We took him out, and he maintained that a man had tried to
choke him, and was still there when we came to his relief. The strange
thing was, that he was shivering with fright, and perfectly sober, though
in the ordinary course of events he would not be in that condition for at
least seven or eight hours. The story spread like wildfire through the
town, but the inhabitants were not in the least surprised, and one old
man told us that many strange things happened in that house long before
it became a police-barrack."
A lady, who requests that her name be suppressed, relates a strange sight
seen by her sister in Galway. The latter's husband was stationed in that
town about seventeen years ago. One afternoon he was out, and she was
lying on a sofa in the drawing-room, when suddenly from behind a screen
(where there was no door) came a little old woman, with a small shawl
over her head and shoulders, such as the country women used to wear. She
had a most diabolical expression on her face. She seized the lady by the
hand, and said: "I will drag you down to Hell, where I am!" The lady
sprang up in terror and shook her off, when the horrible creature again
disappeared behind the screen. The house was an old one, and many stories
were rife amongst the people about it, the one most to the point being
that the apparition of an old woman, who was supposed to have poisoned
someone, used to be seen therein. Needless to say, the lady in question
never again sat by herself in the drawing-room.
Two stories are told about haunted houses at Drogheda, the one by A.G.
Bradley in _Notes on some Irish Superstitions_ (Drogheda, 1894), the
other by F.G. Lee in _Sights and Shadows_ (p. 42). As both appear to be
placed at the same date, _i.e._ 1890, it is quite possible that they
refer to one and the same haunting, and we have so treated them
accordingly. The reader, if he wishes, can test the matter for himself.
This house, which was reputed to be haunted, was let to a tailor and his
wife by the owner at an annual rent of £23. They took possession in due
course, but after a very few days they became aware of the presence of a
most unpleasant supernatural lodger. One night, as the tailor and his
wife were preparing to retire, they were terrified at seeing the foot of
some invisible person kick the candlestick off the table, and so quench
the candle. Although it was a very dark night, and the shutters were
closed, the man and his wife could see everything in the room just as
well as if it were the middle of the day. All at once a woman entered the
room, dressed in white, carrying something in her hand, which she threw
at the tailor's wife, striking her with some violence, and then vanished.
While this was taking place on the first floor, a most frightful noise
was going on overhead in the room where the children and their nurse were
sleeping. The father immediately rushed upstairs, and found to his horror
the floor all torn up, the furniture broken, and, worst of all, the
children lying senseless and naked on the bed, and having the appearance
of having been severely beaten. As he was leaving the room with the
children in his arms he suddenly remembered that he had not seen the
nurse, so he turned back with the intention of bringing her downstairs,
but could find her nowhere. The girl, half-dead with fright, and very
much bruised, had fled to her mother's house, where she died in a few
days in agony.
Because of these occurrences they were legally advised to refuse to pay
any rent. The landlady, however, declining to release them from their
bargain, at once claimed a quarter's rent; and when this remained for
some time unpaid, sued them for it before Judge Kisby. A Drogheda
solicitor appeared for the tenants, who, having given evidence of the
facts concerning the ghost in question, asked leave to support their
sworn testimony by that of several other people. This, however, was
disallowed by the judge. It was admitted by the landlady that nothing on
one side or the other had been said regarding the haunting when the house
was let. A judgment was consequently entered for the landlady, although
it had been shown indirectly that unquestionably the house had had the
reputation of being haunted, and that previous tenants had been much
inconvenienced.
This chapter may be concluded with two stories dealing with haunted
rectories. The first, and mildest, of these is contributed by the present
Dean of St. Patrick's; it is not his own personal experience, but was
related to him by a rector in Co. Monaghan, where he used to preach on
special occasions. The rector and his daughters told the Dean that they
had often seen in that house the apparition of an old woman dressed in a
drab cape, while they frequently heard noises. On one evening the rector
was in the kitchen together with the cook and the coachman. All three
heard noises in the pantry as if vessels were being moved. Presently they
saw the old woman in the drab cape come out of the pantry and move up the
stairs. The rector attempted to follow her, but the two servants held him
tightly by the arms, and besought him not to do so. But hearing the
children, who were in bed, screaming, he broke from the grip of the
servants and rushed upstairs. The children said that they had been
frightened by seeing a strange old woman coming into the room, but she
was now gone. The house had a single roof, and there was no way to or
from the nursery except by the stairs. The rector stated that he took to
praying that the old woman might have rest, and that it was now many
years since she had been seen. A very old parishioner told him that when
she was young she remembered having seen an old woman answering to the
rector's description, who had lived in the house, which at that time was
not a rectory.
The second of these, which is decidedly more complex and mystifying,
refers to a rectory in Co. Donegal. It is sent as the personal experience
of one of the percipients, who does not wish to have his name disclosed.
He says: "My wife, children, and myself will have lived here four years
next January (1914). From the first night that we came into the house
most extraordinary noises have been heard. Sometimes they were inside
the house, and seemed as if the furniture was being disturbed, and the
fireirons knocked about, or at other times as if a dog was running up and
down stairs. Sometimes they were external, and resembled tin buckets
being dashed about the yard, or as if a herd of cattle was galloping up
the drive before the windows. These things would go on for six months,
and then everything would be quiet for three months or so, when the
noises would commence again. My dogs--a fox-terrier, a boar-hound, and a
spaniel--would make a terrible din, and would bark at something in the
hall we could not see, backing away from it all the time.
"The only thing that was ever _seen_ was as follows: One night my
daughter went down to the kitchen about ten o'clock for some hot water.
She saw a tall man, with one arm, carrying a lamp, who walked out of the
pantry into the kitchen, and then through the kitchen wall. Another
daughter saw the same man walk down one evening from the loft, and go
into the harness-room. She told me, and I went out immediately, but could
see nobody. Shortly after that my wife, who is very brave, heard a knock
at the hall door in the dusk. Naturally thinking it was some friend, she
opened the door, and there saw standing outside the self-same man. He
simply looked at her, and walked through the wall into the house. She got
such a shock that she could not speak for several hours, and was ill for
some days. That is eighteen months ago, and he has not been seen since,
and it is six months since we heard any noises." Our correspondent's
letter was written on 25th November 1913. "An old man nearly ninety died
last year. He lived all his life within four hundred yards of this house,
and used to tell me that seventy years ago the parsons came with bell,
book, and candle to drive the ghosts out of the house." Evidently they
were unsuccessful. In English ghost-stories it is the parson who performs
the exorcism successfully, while in Ireland such work is generally
performed by the priest. Indeed a tale was sent to us in which a ghost
quite ignored the parson's efforts, but succumbed to the priest.
CHAPTER III
HAUNTED HOUSES IN MOGH'S HALF
The northern half of Ireland has not proved as prolific in stories of
haunted houses as the southern portion: the possible explanation of this
is, not that the men of the north are less prone to hold, or talk about,
such beliefs, but that, as regards the south half, we have had the good
fortune to happen upon some diligent collectors of these and kindred
tales, whose eagerness in collecting is only equalled by their kindness
in imparting information to the compilers of this book.
On a large farm near Portarlington there once lived a Mrs. ----, a
strong-minded, capable woman, who managed all her affairs for herself,
giving her orders, and taking none from anybody. In due time she died,
and the property passed to the next-of-kin. As soon, however, as the
funeral was over, the house was nightly disturbed by strange noises:
people downstairs would hear rushings about in the upper rooms, banging
of doors, and the sound of heavy footsteps. The cups and saucers used to
fall off the dresser, and all the pots and pans would rattle.
This went on for some time, till the people could stand it no longer,
so they left the house and put in a herd and his family. The latter was
driven away after he had been in the house a few weeks. This happened
to several people, until at length a man named Mr. B---- took the house.
The noises went on as before until some one suggested getting the priest
in. Accordingly the priest came, and held a service in the late
Mrs. ----'s bedroom. When this was over, the door of the room was locked.
After that the noises were not heard till one evening Mr. B---- came home
from a fair, fortified, no doubt, with a little "Dutch courage," and
declared that even if the devil were in it he would go into the locked
room. In spite of all his family could say or do, he burst open the door,
and entered the room, but apparently saw nothing. That night pandemonium
reigned in the house, the chairs were hurled about, the china was broken,
and the most weird and uncanny sounds were heard. Next day the priest
was sent for, the room again shut up, and nothing has happened from that
day to this.
Another strange story comes from the same town. "When I was on a visit to
a friend in Portarlington," writes a lady in the _Journal_ of the
American S.P.R.[4] "a rather unpleasant incident occurred to me. At about
two o'clock in the morning I woke up suddenly, for apparently no reason
whatever; however, I quite distinctly heard snoring coming from under or
in the bed in which I was lying. It continued for about ten minutes,
during which time I was absolutely limp with fright. The door opened,
and my friend entered the bedroom, saying, 'I thought you might want me,
so I came in.' Needless to say, I hailed the happy inspiration that sent
her to me. I then told her what I had heard; she listened to me, and then
to comfort (!) me said, 'Oh, never mind; _it is only grandfather_! He
died in this room, and a snoring is heard every night at two o'clock, the
hour at which he passed away.' Some time previously a German gentleman
was staying with this family. They asked him in the morning how he had
slept, and he replied that he was disturbed by a snoring in the room, but
he supposed it was the cat."
[Footnote 4: For September, 1913.]
A lady, formerly resident in Queen's Co., but who now lives near Dublin,
sends the following clear and concise account of her own personal
experiences in a haunted house: "Some years ago, my father, mother,
sister, and myself went to live in a nice but rather small house close to
the town of ---- in Queen's Co. We liked the house, as it was
conveniently and pleasantly situated, and we certainly never had a
thought of ghosts or haunted houses, nor would my father allow
any talk about such things in his presence. But we were not long settled
there when we were disturbed by the opening of the parlour door every
night regularly at the hour of eleven o'clock. My father and mother used
to retire to their room about ten o'clock, while my sister and I used to
sit up reading. We always declared that we would retire before the door
opened, but we generally got so interested in our books that we would
forget until we would hear the handle of the door turn, and see the door
flung open. We tried in every way to account for this, but we could find
no explanation, and there was no possibility of any human agent being
at work.
"Some time after, light was thrown on the subject. We had visitors
staying with us, and in order to make room for them, my sister was asked
to sleep in the parlour. She consented without a thought of ghosts,
and went to sleep quite happily; but during the night she was awakened by
some one opening the door, walking across the room, and disturbing the
fireirons. She, supposing it to be the servant, called her by name, but
got no answer: then the person seemed to come away from the fireplace,
and walk out of the room. There was a fire in the grate, but though she
heard the footsteps, she could see no one.
"The next thing was, that I was coming downstairs, and as I glanced
towards the hall door I saw standing by it a man in a grey suit. I went
to my father and told him. He asked in surprise who let him in, as the
servant was out, and he himself had already locked, bolted, and chained
the door an hour previously. None of us had let him in, and when my
father went out to the hall the man had disappeared, and the door was as
he had left it.
"Some little time after, I had a visit from a lady who knew the place
well, and in the course of conversation she said:
"'This is the house poor Mr. ---- used to live in.'
"'Who is Mr. ----?' I asked.
"'Did you never hear of him?' she replied. 'He was a minister who used to
live in this house quite alone, and was murdered in this very parlour.
His landlord used to visit him sometimes, and one night he was seen
coming in about eleven o'clock, and was seen again leaving about five
o'clock in the morning. When Mr. ---- did not come out as usual, the door
was forced open, and he was found lying dead in this room by the fender,
with his head battered in with the poker.'
"We left the house soon after," adds our informant.
The following weird incidents occurred, apparently in the Co. Kilkenny,
to a Miss K. B., during two visits paid by her to Ireland in 1880 and
1881. The house in which she experienced the following was really an old
barrack, long disused, very old-fashioned, and surrounded with a high
wall: it was said that it had been built during the time of Cromwell
as a stronghold for his men. The only inhabitants of this were Captain
C---- (a retired officer in charge of the place), Mrs. C----, three
daughters, and two servants. They occupied the central part of the
building, the mess-room being their drawing-room. Miss K. B.'s bedroom
was very lofty, and adjoined two others which were occupied by the three
daughters, E., G., and L.
"The first recollection I have of anything strange," writes Miss B., "was
that each night I was awakened about three o'clock by a tremendous noise,
apparently in the next suite of rooms, which was empty, and it sounded as
if some huge iron boxes and other heavy things were being thrown about
with great force. This continued for about half an hour, when in the room
underneath (the kitchen) I heard the fire being violently poked and raked
for several minutes, and this was immediately followed by a most terrible
and distressing cough of a man, very loud and violent. It seemed as if
the exertion had brought on a paroxysm which he could not stop. In large
houses in Co. Kilkenny the fires are not lighted every day, owing to the
slow-burning property of the coal, and it is only necessary to rake it up
every night about eleven o'clock, and in the morning it is still bright
and clear. Consequently I wondered why it was necessary for Captain
C---- to get up in the middle of the night to stir it so violently."
A few days later Miss B. said to E. C.: "I hear such strange noises every
night--are there any people in the adjoining part of the building?" She
turned very pale, and looking earnestly at Miss B., said, "Oh K., I am so
sorry you heard. I hoped no one but myself had heard it. I could have
given worlds to have spoken to you last night, but dared not move or
speak." K. B. laughed at her for being so superstitious, but E. declared
that the place was haunted, and told her of a number of weird things that
had been seen and heard.
In the following year, 1881, Miss K. B. paid another visit to the
barrack. This time there were two other visitors there--a colonel and his
wife. They occupied Miss B.'s former room, while to her was allotted a
huge bedroom on the top of the house, with a long corridor leading to it;
opposite to this was another large room, which was occupied by the girls.
Her strange experiences commenced again. "One morning, about four
o'clock, I was awakened by a very noisy martial footstep ascending the
stairs, and then marching quickly up and down the corridor outside
my room. Then suddenly the most violent coughing took place that I ever
heard, which continued for some time, while the quick, heavy step
continued its march. At last the footsteps faded away in the distance,
and I then recalled to mind the same coughing after exertion last year."
In the morning, at breakfast, she asked both Captain C---- and the
colonel had they been walking about, but both denied, and also said they
had no cough. The family looked very uncomfortable, and afterwards E.
came up with tears in her eyes, and said, "Oh K., please don't say
anything more about that dreadful coughing; we all hear it often,
especially when anything terrible is about to happen."
Some nights later the C----s gave a dance. When the guests had departed,
Miss B. went to her bedroom. "The moon was shining so beautifully that I
was able to read my Bible by its light, and had left the Bible open on
the window-sill, which was a very high one, and on which I sat to read,
having had to climb the washstand to reach it. I went to bed, and fell
asleep, but was not long so when I was suddenly awakened by the strange
feeling that some one was in the room. I opened my eyes, and turned
around, and saw on the window-sill in the moonlight a long, very thin,
very dark figure bending over the Bible, and apparently earnestly
scanning the page. As if my movement disturbed the figure, it suddenly
darted up, jumped off the window-ledge on to the washstand, then to the
ground, and flitted quietly across the room to the table where my
jewellery was." That was the last she saw of it. She thought it was some
one trying to steal her jewellery, so waited till morning, but nothing
was missing. In the morning she described to one of the daughters, G.,
what she had seen, and the latter told her that something always happened
when that appeared. Miss K. B. adds that nothing did happen. Later on she
was told that a colonel had cut his throat in that very room.
Another military station, Charles Fort, near Kinsale, has long had the
reputation of being haunted. An account of this was sent to the _Wide
World Magazine_ (Jan. 1908), by Major H. L. Ruck Keene, D.S.O.; he
states that he took it from a manuscript written by a Captain Marvell
Hull about the year 1880. Further information on the subject of the
haunting is to be found in Dr. Craig's _Real Pictures of Clerical Life in
Ireland_.
Charles Fort was erected in 1667 by the Duke of Ormonde. It is said to be
haunted by a ghost known as the "White Lady," and the traditional account
of the reason for this haunting is briefly as follows: Shortly after the
erection of the fort, a Colonel Warrender, a severe disciplinarian, was
appointed its governor. He had a daughter, who bore the quaint Christian
name of "Wilful"; she became engaged to a Sir Trevor Ashurst, and
subsequently married him. On the evening of their wedding-day the bride
and bridegroom were walking on the battlements, when she espied some
flowers growing on the rocks beneath. She expressed a wish for them, and
a sentry posted close by volunteered to climb down for them, provided Sir
Trevor took his place during his absence. He assented, and took the
soldier's coat and musket while he went in search of a rope. Having
obtained one, he commenced his descent; but the task proving longer than
he expected, Sir Trevor fell asleep. Meantime the governor visited the
sentries, as was his custom, and in the course of his rounds came to
where Sir Trevor was asleep. He challenged him, and on receiving no
answer perceived that he was asleep, whereupon he drew a pistol and shot
him through the heart. The body was brought in, and it was only then the
governor realised what had happened. The bride, who appears to have gone
indoors before the tragedy occurred, then learned the fate that befell
her husband, and in her distraction, rushed from the house and flung
herself over the battlements. In despair at the double tragedy, her
father shot himself during the night.
The above is from Dr. Craig's book already alluded to. In the _Wide World
Magazine_ the legend differs slightly in details. According to this the
governor's name was Browne, and it was his own son, not his son-in-law,
that he shot; while the incident is said to have occurred about a hundred
and fifty years ago.
The "White Lady" is the ghost of the young bride. Let us see what
accounts there are of her appearance. A good many years ago Fort-Major
Black, who had served in the Peninsular War, gave his own personal
experience to Dr. Craig. He stated that he had gone to the hall door one
summer evening, and saw a lady entering the door and going up the stairs.
At first he thought she was an officer's wife, but as he looked, he
observed she was dressed in white, and in a very old-fashioned style.
Impelled by curiosity, he hastened upstairs after her, and followed her
closely into one of the rooms, but on entering it he could not find the
slightest trace of anyone there. On another occasion he stated that two
sergeants were packing some cast stores. One of them had his little
daughter with him, and the child suddenly exclaimed, "Who is that white
lady who is bending over the banisters, and looking down at us?" The two
men looked up, but could see nothing, but the child insisted that she had
seen a lady in white looking down and smiling at her.
On another occasion a staff officer, a married man, was residing in the
"Governor's House." One night as the nurse lay awake--she and the
children were in a room which opened into what was known as the White
Lady's apartment--she suddenly saw a lady clothed in white glide to the
bedside of the youngest child, and after a little place her hand upon its
wrist. At this the child started in its sleep, and cried out, "Oh! take
that cold hand from my wrist!" the next moment the lady disappeared.
One night, about the year 1880, Captain Marvell Hull and Lieutenant
Hartland were going to the rooms occupied by the former officer. As they
reached a small landing they saw distinctly in front of them a woman in a
white dress. As they stood there in awestruck silence she turned and
looked towards them, showing a face beautiful enough, but colourless as a
corpse, and then passed on through a locked door.
But it appears that this presence did not always manifest itself in as
harmless a manner. Some years ago Surgeon L---- was quartered at the
fort. One day he had been out snipe-shooting, and as he entered the fort
the mess-bugle rang out. He hastened to his rooms to dress, but as he
failed to put in an appearance at mess, one of the officers went in
search of him, and found him lying senseless on the floor. When he
recovered consciousness he related his experience. He said he had stooped
down for the key of his door, which he had placed for safety under the
mat; when in this position he felt himself violently dragged across the
hall, and flung down a flight of steps. With this agrees somewhat the
experience of a Captain Jarves, as related by him to Captain Marvell
Hull. Attracted by a strange rattling noise in his bedroom, he
endeavoured to open the door of it, but found it seemingly locked.
Suspecting a hoax, he called out, whereupon a gust of wind passed him,
and some unseen power flung him down the stairs, and laid him senseless
at the bottom.
Near a seaside town in the south of Ireland a group of small cottages was
built by an old lady, in one of which she lived, while she let the others
to her relatives. In process of time all the occupants died, the cottages
fell into ruin, and were all pulled down (except the one in which the old
lady had lived), the materials being used by a farmer to build a large
house which he hoped to let to summer visitors. It was shortly afterwards
taken for three years by a gentleman for his family. It should be noted
that the house had very bare surroundings; there were no trees near, or
outhouses where people could be concealed. Soon after the family came to
the house they began to hear raps all over it, on doors, windows, and
walls; these raps varied in nature, sometimes being like a sledgehammer,
loud and dying away, and sometimes quick and sharp, two or three or five
in succession; and all heard them. One morning about 4 A.M., the mother
heard very loud knocking on the bedroom door; thinking it was the servant
wanting to go to early mass, she said, "Come in," but the knocking
continued till the father was awakened by it; he got up, searched the
house, but could find no one. The servant's door was slightly open, and
he saw that she was sound asleep. That morning a telegram came announcing
the death of a beloved uncle just about the hour of the knocking. Some
time previous to this the mother was in the kitchen, when a loud
explosion took place beside her, startling her very much, but no cause
for it could be found, nor were any traces left. This coincided with the
death of an aunt, wife to the uncle who died later.
One night the mother went to her bedroom. The blind was drawn, and the
shutters closed, when suddenly a great crash came, as if a branch was
thrown at the window, and there was a sound of broken glass. She opened
the shutters with the expectation of finding the window smashed, but
there was not even a crack in it. She entered the room next day at one
o'clock, and the same crash took place, being heard by all in the house:
she went in at 10 A.M. on another day, and the same thing happened,
after which she refused to enter that room again.
Another night, after 11 P.M., the servant was washing up in the kitchen,
when heavy footsteps were heard by the father and mother going upstairs,
and across a lobby to the servant's room; the father searched the house,
but could find no one. After that footsteps used to be heard regularly at
that hour, though no one could ever be seen walking about.
The two elder sisters slept together, and used to see flames shooting up
all over the floor, though there was no smell or heat; this used to be
seen two or three nights at a time, chiefly in the one room. The first
time the girls saw this one of them got up and went to her father in
alarm, naturally thinking the room underneath must be on fire.
The two boys were moved to the haunted room [which one?], where they
slept in one large bed with its head near the chimneypiece. The elder
boy, aged about thirteen, put his watch on the mantelpiece, awoke about
2 A.M., and wishing to ascertain the time, put his hand up for his watch;
he then felt a deathly cold hand laid on his. For the rest of that night
the two boys were terrified by noises, apparently caused by two people
rushing about the room fighting and knocking against the bed. About 6
A.M. they went to their father, almost in hysterics from terror, and
refused to sleep there again. The eldest sister, not being nervous, was
then given that room; she was, however, so disturbed by these noises that
she begged her father to let her leave it, but having no other room to
give her, he persuaded her to stay there, and at length she got
accustomed to the noise, and could sleep in spite of it. Finally the
family left the house before their time was up.[5]
[Footnote 5: _Journal of American S.P.R._ for September 1913.]
Mr. T.J. Westropp, to whom we are indebted for so much material, sends a
tale which used to be related by a relative of his, the Rev. Thomas
Westropp, concerning experiences in a house not very far from the city of
Limerick. When the latter was appointed to a certain parish he had some
difficulty in finding a suitable house, but finally fixed on one which
had been untenanted for many years, but had nevertheless been kept aired
and in good repair, as a caretaker who lived close by used to come and
look after it every day. The first night that the family settled there,
as the clergyman was going upstairs he heard a footstep and the rustle of
a dress, and as he stood aside a lady passed him, entered a door facing
the stairs, and closed it after her. It was only then he realised that
her dress was very old-fashioned, and that he had not been able to enter
that particular room. Next day he got assistance from a carpenter, who,
with another man, forced open the door. A mat of cobwebs fell as they did
so, and the floor and windows were thick with dust. The men went across
the room, and as the clergyman followed them he saw a small white bird
flying round the ceiling; at his exclamation the men looked back and also
saw it. It swooped, flew out of the door, and they did not see it again.
After that the family were alarmed by hearing noises under the floor of
that room every night. At length the clergyman had the boards taken up,
and the skeleton of a child was found underneath. So old did the remains
appear that the coroner did not deem it necessary to hold an inquest on
them, so the rector buried them in the churchyard. Strange noises
continued, as if some one were trying to force up the boards from
underneath. Also a heavy ball was heard rolling down the stairs and
striking against the study door. One night the two girls woke up
screaming, and on the nurse running up to them, the elder said she had
seen a great black dog with fiery eyes resting its paws on her bed. Her
father ordered the servants to sit constantly with them in the evenings,
but, notwithstanding the presence of two women in the nursery, the same
thing occurred. The younger daughter was so scared that she never quite
recovered. The family left the house immediately.
The same correspondent says: "An old ruined house in the hills of east
Co. Clare enjoyed the reputation of being 'desperately haunted' from, at
any rate, 1865 down to its dismantling. I will merely give the
experiences of my own relations, as told by them to me. My mother told
how one night she and my father heard creaking and grating, as if a door
were being forced open. The sound came from a passage in which was a door
nailed up and clamped with iron bands. A heavy footstep came down
the passage, and stopped at the bedroom door for a moment; no sound was
heard, and then the 'thing' came through the room to the foot of the bed.
It moved round the bed, they not daring to stir. The horrible unseen
visitant stopped, and they _felt_ it watching them. At last it moved
away, they heard it going up the passage, the door crashed, and all was
silence. Lighting a candle, my father examined the room, and found the
door locked; he then went along the passage, but not a sound was to be
heard anywhere.
"Strange noises like footsteps, sobbing, whispering, grim laughter, and
shrieks were often heard about the house. On one occasion my eldest
sister and a girl cousin drove over to see the family and stayed the
night. They and my two younger sisters were all crowded into a huge,
old-fashioned bed, and carefully drew and tucked in the curtains all
round. My eldest sister awoke feeling a cold wind blowing on her face,
and putting out her hand found the curtains drawn back and, as they
subsequently discovered, wedged between the bed and the wall. She reached
for the match-box, and was about to light the candle when a horrible
mocking laugh rang out close to the bed, which awakened the other girls.
Being always a plucky woman, though then badly scared, she struck a
match, and searched the room, but nothing was to be seen. The closed room
was said to have been deserted after a murder, and its floor was supposed
to be stained with blood which no human power could wash out."
Another house in Co. Clare, nearer the estuary of the Shannon, which was
formerly the residence of the D---- family, but is now pulled down, had
some extraordinary tales told about it in which facts (if we may use the
word) were well supplemented by legend. To commence with the former.
A lady writes: "My father and old Mr. D---- were first cousins. Richard
D---- asked my father would he come and sit up with him one night, in
order to see what might be seen. Both were particularly sober men. The
annoyances in the house were becoming unbearable. Mrs. D----'s work-box
used to be thrown down, the table-cloth would be whisked off the table,
the fender and fireirons would be hurled about the room, and other
similar things would happen. Mr. D---- and my father went up to one of
the bedrooms, where a big fire was made up. They searched every part of
the room carefully, but nothing uncanny was to be seen or found. They
then placed two candles and a brace of pistols on a small table between
them, and waited. Nothing happened for some time, till all of a sudden a
large black dog walked out from under the bed. Both men fired, and the
dog disappeared. That is all! The family had to leave the house."
Now to the blending of fact with fiction, of which we have already
spoken: the intelligent reader can decide in his own mind which is which.
It was said that black magic had been practised in this house at one
time, and that in consequence terrible and weird occurrences were quite
the order of the day there. When being cooked, the hens used to scream
and the mutton used to bleat in the pot. Black dogs were seen frequently.
The beds used to be lifted up, and the occupants thereof used to be
beaten black and blue, by invisible hands. One particularly ghoulish tale
was told. It was said that a monk (!) was in love with one of the
daughters of the house, who was an exceedingly fat girl. She died
unmarried, and was buried in the family vault. Some time later the vault
was again opened for an interment, and those who entered it found that
Miss D----'s coffin had been disturbed, and the lid loosened. They
then saw that all the fat around her heart had been scooped away.
Apropos of ineradicable blood on a floor, which is a not infrequent item
in stories of haunted houses, it is said that a manifestation of this
nature forms the haunting in a farmhouse in Co. Limerick. According to
our informants, a light must be kept burning in this house all night; if
by any chance it is forgotten, or becomes quenched, in the morning the
floor is covered with blood. The story is evidently much older than the
house, but no traditional explanation is given.
Two stories of haunted schools have been sent to us, both on very good
authority; these establishments lie within the geographical limits of
this chapter, but for obvious reasons, we cannot indicate their locality
more precisely, though the names of both are known to us. The first of
these was told to our correspondent by the boy Brown, who was in the
room, but did _not_ see the ghost.
When Brown was about fifteen he was sent to ---- School. His brother told
him not to be frightened at anything he might see or hear, as the boys
were sure to play tricks on all new-comers. He was put to sleep in a room
with another new arrival, a boy named Smith, from England. In the middle
of the night Brown was roused from his sleep by Smith crying out in great
alarm, and asking who was in the room. Brown, who was very angry at being
waked up, told him not to be a fool--that there was no one there. The
second night Smith roused him again, this time in greater alarm than the
first night. He said he saw a man in cap and gown come into the room with
a lamp, and then pass right through the wall. Smith got out of his bed,
and fell on his knees beside Brown, beseeching him not to go to sleep. At
first Brown thought it was all done to frighten him, but he then saw that
Smith was in a state of abject terror. Next morning they spoke of the
occurrence, and the report reached the ears of the Head Master, who sent
for the two boys. Smith refused to spend another night in the room. Brown
said he had seen or heard nothing, and was quite willing to sleep there
if another fellow would sleep with him, but he would not care to remain
there alone. The Head Master then asked for volunteers from the class of
elder boys, but not one of them would sleep in the room. It had always
been looked upon as "haunted," but the Master thought that by putting in
new boys who had not heard the story they would sleep there all right.
Some years after, Brown revisited the place, and found that another
attempt had been made to occupy the room. A new Head Master who did not
know its history, thought it a pity to have the room idle, and put a
teacher, also new to the school, in possession. When this teacher came
down the first morning, he asked who had come into his room during the
night. He stated that a man in cap and gown, having books under his arm
and a lamp in his hand, came in, sat down at a table, and began to read.
He knew that he was not one of the masters, and did not recognise him as
one of the boys. The room had to be abandoned. The tradition is that many
years ago a master was murdered in that room by one of the students. The
few boys who ever had the courage to persist in sleeping in the room said
if they stayed more than two or three nights that the furniture was
moved, and they heard violent noises.
The second story was sent to us by the percipient herself, and is
therefore a firsthand experience. Considering that she was only a
schoolgirl at the time, it must be admitted that she made a most plucky
attempt to run the ghost to earth.
"A good many years ago, when I first went to school, I did not believe in
ghosts, but I then had an experience which caused me to alter my opinion.
I was ordered with two other girls to sleep in a small top room at the
back of the house which overlooked a garden which contained ancient
apple-trees.
"Suddenly in the dead of night I was awakened out of my sleep by the
sound of heavy footsteps, as of a man wearing big boots unlaced, pacing
ceaselessly up and down a long corridor which I knew was plainly visible
from the landing outside my door, as there was a large window at the
farther end of it, and there was sufficient moonlight to enable one to
see its full length. After listening for about twenty minutes, my
curiosity was aroused, so I got up and stood on the landing. The
footsteps still continued, but I could see nothing, although the sounds
actually reached the foot of the flight of stairs which led from the
corridor to the landing on which I was standing. Suddenly the footfall
ceased, pausing at my end of the corridor, and I then considered it was
high time for me to retire, which I accordingly did, carefully closing
the door behind me.
"To my horror the footsteps ascended the stairs, and the bedroom door was
violently dashed back against a washing-stand, beside which was a bed;
the contents of the ewer were spilled over the occupant, and the steps
advanced a few paces into the room in my direction. A cold perspiration
broke out all over me; I cannot describe the sensation. It was not actual
fear--it was more than that--I felt I had come into contact with the
Unknown.
"What was about to happen? All I could do was to speak; I cried out, "Who
are you? What do you want?" Suddenly the footsteps ceased; I felt
relieved, and lay awake till morning, but no further sound reached my
ears. How or when my ghostly visitant disappeared I never knew; suffice
it to say, my story was no nightmare, but an actual fact, of which there
was found sufficient proof in the morning; the floor was still saturated
with water, the door, which we always carefully closed at night, was wide
open, and last, but not least, the occupant of the wet bed had heard all
that had happened, but feared to speak, and lay awake till morning.
"Naturally, we related our weird experience to our schoolmates, and it
was only then I learned from one of the elder girls that this ghost had
manifested itself for many years in a similar fashion to the inhabitants
of that room. It was supposed to be the spirit of a man who, long years
before, had occupied this apartment (the house was then a private
residence), and had committed suicide by hanging himself from an old
apple tree opposite the window. Needless to say, the story was hushed up,
and we were sharply spoken to, and warned not to mention the occurrence
again.
"Some years afterwards a friend, who happened at the time to be a boarder
at this very school, came to spend a week-end with me. She related an
exactly similar incident which occurred a few nights previous to her
visit. My experience was quite unknown to her."
The following account of strange happenings at his glebe-house has been
sent by the rector of a parish in the diocese of Cashel: "Shortly after
my wife and I came to live here, some ten years ago, the servants
complained of hearing strange noises in the top storey of the Rectory
where they sleep. One girl ran away the day after she arrived, declaring
that the house was haunted, and that nothing would induce her to sleep
another night in it. So often had my wife to change servants on this
account that at last I had to speak to the parish priest, as I suspected
that the idea of 'ghosts' might have been suggested to the maids by
neighbours who might have some interest in getting rid of them. I
understand that my friend the parish priest spoke very forcibly from the
altar on the subject of spirits, saying that the only spirits he believed
ever did any harm to anyone were ----, mentioning a well-known brand of
the wine of the country. Whether this priestly admonition was the cause
or not, for some time we heard no more tales of ghostly manifestations.
"After a while, however, my wife and I began to hear a noise which, while
in no sense alarming, has proved to be both remarkable and inexplicable.
If we happen to be sitting in the dining-room after dinner, sometimes we
hear what sounds like the noise of a heavy coach rumbling up to the hall
door. We have both heard this noise hundreds of times between eight P.M.
and midnight. Sometimes we hear it several times the same night, and then
perhaps we won't hear it again for several months. We hear it best on
calm nights, and as we are nearly a quarter of a mile from the high
road, it is difficult to account for, especially as the noise appears to
be quite close to us--I mean not farther away than the hall-door. I may
mention that an Englishman was staying with us a few years ago. As we
were sitting in the dining-room one night after dinner he said, 'A
carriage has just driven up to the door'; but we knew it was only the
'phantom coach,' for we also heard it. Only once do I remember hearing it
while sitting in the drawing-room. So much for the 'sound' of the
'phantom coach,' but now I must tell you what I _saw_ with my own eyes as
clearly as I now see the paper on which I am writing. Some years ago in
the middle of the summer, on a scorching hot day, I was out cutting
some hay opposite the hall door just by the tennis court. It was between
twelve and one o'clock. I remember the time distinctly, as my man had
gone to his dinner shortly before. The spot on which I was commanded
a view of the avenue from the entrance gate for about four hundred yards.
I happened to look up from my occupation--for scything is no easy
work--and I saw what I took to be a somewhat high dogcart, in which two
people were seated, turning in at the avenue gate. As I had my coat and
waistcoat off, and was not in a state to receive visitors, I got behind a
newly-made hay-cock and watched the vehicle until it came to a bend in
the avenue where there is a clump of trees which obscured it from my
view. As it did not, however, reappear, I concluded that the occupants
had either stopped for some reason or had taken by mistake a cart-way
leading to the back gate into the garden. Hastily putting on my coat, I
went down to the bend in the avenue, but to my surprise there was nothing
to be seen.
"Returning to the Rectory, I met my housekeeper, who has been with me for
nearly twenty years, and I told her what I had seen. She then told me
that about a month before, while I was away from home, my man had one day
gone with the trap to the station. She saw, just as I did, a trap coming
up the avenue until it was lost to sight owing to the intervention of the
clump of trees. As it did not come on, she went down to the bend, but
there was no trap to be seen. When the man came in some half-hour after,
my housekeeper asked him if he had come half-way up the avenue and turned
back, but he said he had only that minute come straight from the station.
My housekeeper said she did not like to tell me about it before, as she
thought I 'would have laughed at her.' Whether the 'spectral gig' which I
saw and the 'phantom coach' which my wife and I have often heard are one
and the same I know not, but I do know that what I saw in the full blaze
of the summer sun was not inspired by a dose of the spirits referred to
by my friend the parish priest.
"Some time during the winter of 1912, I was in the motor-house one dark
evening at about 6 P.M. I was working at the engine, and as the car was
'nose in' first, I was, of course, at the farthest point from the door.
I had sent my man down to the village with a message. He was gone about
ten minutes when I heard heavy footsteps enter the yard and come over to
the motor-house. I 'felt' that there was some one in the house quite
close to me, and I said, 'Hullo, ----, what brought you back so soon,' as
I knew he could not have been to the village and back. As I got no reply,
I took up my electric lamp and went to the back of the motor to see who
was there, but there was no one to be seen, and although I searched the
yard with my lamp, I could discover no one. About a week later I heard
the footsteps again under almost identical conditions, but I searched
with the same futile result.
"Before I stop, I must tell you about a curious 'presentiment' which
happened with regard to a man I got from the Queen's County. He arrived
on a Saturday evening, and on the following Monday morning I put him to
sweep the avenue. He was at his work when I went out in the motor car at
about 10:30 A.M. Shortly after I left he left his wheel-barrow and tools
on the avenue (just at the point where I saw the 'spectral gig'
disappear) and, coming up to the Rectory, he told my housekeeper in a
great state of agitation that he was quite sure that his brother, with
whom he had always lived, was dead. He said he must return home at once.
My housekeeper advised him to wait until I returned, but he changed his
clothes and packed his box, saying he must catch the next train. Just
before I returned home at 12 o'clock, a telegram came saying his brother
had died suddenly that morning, and that he was to return at once. On my
return I found him almost in a state of collapse. He left by the next
train, and I never heard of him again."
K---- Castle is a handsome blending of ancient castle and modern
dwelling-house, picturesquely situated among trees, while the steep glen
mentioned below runs close beside it. It has the reputation of being
haunted, but, as usual, it is difficult to get information. One
gentleman, to whom we wrote, stated that he never saw or heard anything
worse than a bat. On the other hand, a lady who resided there a good many
years ago, gives the following account of her extraordinary experiences
therein:
DEAR MR. SEYMOUR,
I enclose some account of our experiences in K---- Castle. It would be
better not to mention names, as the people occupying it have told me they
are afraid of their servants hearing anything, and consequently giving
notice. They themselves hear voices often, but, like me, they do not
mind. When first we went there we heard people talking, but on looking
everywhere we could find no one. Then on some nights we heard fighting in
the glen beside the house. We could hear voices raised in anger, and the
clash of steel: no person would venture there after dusk.
One night I was sitting talking with my governess, I got up, said
good-night, and opened the door, which was on the top of the back
staircase. As I did so, I _heard_ some one (a woman) come slowly
upstairs, walk past us to a window at the end of the landing, and then
with a shriek fall heavily. As she passed it was bitterly cold, and I
drew back into the room, but did not say anything, as it might frighten
the governess. She asked me what was the matter, as I looked so white.
Without answering, I pushed her into her room, and then searched the
house, but with no results.
Another night I was sleeping with my little girl. I awoke, and saw a girl
with long, fair hair standing at the fireplace, one hand at her side, the
other on the chimney-piece. Thinking at first it was my little girl, I
felt on the pillow to see if she were gone, but she was fast asleep.
There was no fire or light of any kind in the room.
Some time afterwards a friend was sleeping there, and she told me that
she was pushed out of bed the whole night. Two gentlemen to whom I had
mentioned this came over, thinking they would find out the cause. In the
morning when they came down they asked for the carriage to take them to
the next train, but would not tell what they had heard or seen.
Another person who came to visit her sister, who was looking after the
house before we went in, slept in this room, and in the morning said she
must go back that day. She also would give no information.
On walking down the corridor, I have heard a door open, a footstep cross
before me, and go into another room, _both_ doors being closed at the
time. An old cook I had told me that when she went into the hall in the
morning, a gentleman would come down the front stairs, take a plumed hat
off the stand, and vanish _through_ the hall door. This she saw nearly
every morning. She also said that a girl often came into her bedroom, and
put her hand on her (the cook's) face; and when she would push her away
she would hear a girl's voice say, "Oh don't!" three times. I have often
heard voices in the drawing-room, which decidedly sounded as if an old
gentleman and a girl were talking. Noises like furniture being moved were
frequently heard at night, and strangers staying with us have often asked
why the servants turned out the rooms underneath them at such an unusual
hour. The front-door bell sometimes rang, and I have gone down, but found
no one.
Yours very sincerely,
F.T.
"Kilman" Castle, in the heart of Ireland--the name is obviously a
pseudonym--has been described as perhaps the worst haunted mansion in the
British Isles. That it deserves this doubtful recommendation, we cannot
say; but at all events the ordinary reader will be prepared to admit that
it contains sufficient "ghosts" to satisfy the most greedy ghost-hunter.
A couple of months ago the present writer paid a visit to this castle,
and was shown all over it one morning by the mistress of the house, who,
under the _nom de plume_ of "Andrew Merry" has published novels dealing
with Irish life, and has also contributed articles on the ghostly
phenomena of her house to the _Occult Review_ (Dec. 1908 and Jan. 1909).
The place itself is a grim, grey, bare building. The central portion, in
which is the entrance-hall, is a square castle of the usual type; it is
built on a rock, and a slight batter from base to summit gives an added
appearance of strength and solidity. On either side of the castle are
more modern wings, one of which terminates in what is known as the
"Priest's House."
Now to the ghosts. The top storey of the central tower is a large,
well-lighted apartment, called the "Chapel," having evidently served that
purpose in times past. At one end is what is said to be an _oubliette_,
now almost filled up. Occasionally in the evenings, people walking along
the roads or in the fields see the windows of this chapel lighted up for
a few seconds as if many lamps were suddenly brought into it. This is
certainly _not_ due to servants; from our experience we can testify that
it is the last place on earth that a domestic would enter after dark. It
is also said that a treasure is buried somewhere in or around the castle.
The legend runs that an ancestor was about to be taken to Dublin on a
charge of rebellion, and, fearing he would never return, made the best of
the time left to him by burying somewhere a crock full of gold and
jewels. Contrary to expectation, he _did_ return; but his long
confinement had turned his brain, and he could never remember the spot
where he had deposited his treasure years before. Some time ago a lady, a
Miss B., who was decidedly psychic, was invited to Kilman Castle in the
hope that she would be able to locate the whereabouts of this treasure.
In this respect she failed, unfortunately, but gave, nevertheless, a
curious example of her power. As she walked through the hall with her
hostess, she suddenly laid her hand upon the bare stone wall, and
remarked, "There is something uncanny here, but I don't know what it is."
In that very spot, some time previously, two skeletons had been
discovered walled up.
The sequel to this is curious. Some time after, Miss B. was either trying
automatic writing, or else was at a séance (we forget which), when a
message came to her from the Unseen, stating that the treasure at Kilman
Castle was concealed in the chapel under the tessellated pavement near
the altar. But this spirit was either a "lying spirit," or else a most
impish one, for there is no trace of an altar, and it is impossible to
say, from the style of the room, where it stood; while the tessellated
pavement (if it exists) is so covered with the debris of the former
roof that it would be almost impossible to have it thoroughly cleared.
There is as well a miscellaneous assortment of ghosts. A monk with
tonsure and cowl walks in at one window of the Priest's House, and out at
another. There is also a little old man, dressed in the antique garb
of a green cut-away coat, knee breeches, and buckled shoes: he is
sometimes accompanied by an old lady in similar old-fashioned costume.
Another ghost has a penchant for lying on the bed beside its lawful and
earthly occupant; nothing is seen, but a great weight is felt, and a
consequent deep impression made on the bedclothes.
The lady of the house states that she has a number of letters from
friends, in which they relate the supernatural experiences they had while
staying at the Castle. In one of these the writer, a gentleman, was
awakened one night by an extraordinary feeling of intense cold at his
heart. He then saw in front of him a tall female figure, clothed from
head to foot in red, and with its right hand raised menacingly in the
air: the light which illuminated the figure was from within. He lit a
match, and sprang out of bed, but the room was empty. He went back to
bed, and saw nothing more that night, except that several times the same
cold feeling gripped his heart, though to the touch the flesh was quite
warm.
But of all the ghosts in that well-haunted house the most unpleasant is
that inexplicable thing that is usually called "It." The lady of the
house described to the present writer her personal experience of this
phantom. High up round one side of the hall runs a gallery which connects
with some of the bedrooms. One evening she was in this gallery leaning on
the balustrade, and looking down into the hall. Suddenly she felt two
hands laid on her shoulders; she turned round sharply, and saw "It"
standing close beside her. She described it as being human in shape, and
about four feet high; the eyes were like two black holes in the face, and
the whole figure seemed as if it were made of grey cotton-wool, while it
was accompanied by a most appalling stench, such as would come from a
decaying human body. The lady got a shock from which she did not recover
for a long time.
CHAPTER IV
POLTERGEISTS
Poltergeist is the term assigned to those apparently meaningless noises
and movements of objects of which we from time to time hear accounts. The
word is, of course, German, and may be translated "boisterous ghost." A
poltergeist is seldom or never seen, but contents itself by moving
furniture and other objects about in an extraordinary manner, often
contrary to the laws of gravitation; sometimes footsteps are heard, but
nothing is visible, while at other times vigorous rappings will be heard
either on the walls or floor of a room, and in the manner in which the
raps are given a poltergeist has often showed itself as having a close
connection with the physical phenomena of spiritualism, for cases have
occurred in which a poltergeist has given the exact number of raps
mentally asked for by some person present. Another point that is worthy
of note is the fact that the hauntings of a poltergeist are generally
attached to a certain individual in a certain spot, and thus differ from
the operations of an ordinary ghost.
The two following incidents related in this chapter are taken from a
paper read by Professor Barrett, F.R.S., before the Society for Psychical
Research.[6] In the case of the first anecdote he made every possible
inquiry into the facts set forth, short of actually being an eye-witness
of the phenomena. In the case of the second he made personal
investigation, and himself saw the whole of the incidents related. There
is therefore very little room to doubt the genuineness of either story.
[Footnote 6: _Proceedings_, August 1911, pp. 377-95.]
In the year 1910, in a certain house in Court Street, Enniscorthy, there
lived a labouring man named Redmond. His wife took in boarders to
supplement her husband's wages, and at the time to which we refer there
were three men boarding with her, who slept in one room above the
kitchen. The house consisted of five rooms--two on the ground-floor, of
which one was a shop and the other the kitchen. The two other rooms
upstairs were occupied by the Redmonds and their servant respectively.
The bedroom in which the boarders slept was large, and contained two
beds, one at each end of the room, two men sleeping in one of them; John
Randall and George Sinnott were the names of two, but the name of the
third lodger is not known--he seems to have left the Redmonds very
shortly after the disturbances commenced.
It was on July 4, 1910, that John Randall, who is a carpenter by trade,
went to live at Enniscorthy, and took rooms with the Redmonds. In a
signed statement, now in possession of Professor Barrett, he tells a
graphic tale of what occurred each night during the three weeks he lodged
in the house, and as a result of the poltergeist's attentions he lost
three-quarters of a stone in weight. It was on the night of Thursday,
July 7, that the first incident occurred, when the bedclothes were gently
pulled off his bed. Of course he naturally thought it was a joke, and
shouted to his companions to stop. As no one could explain what was
happening, a match was struck, and the bedclothes were found to be at the
window, from which the other bed (a large piece of furniture which
ordinarily took two people to move) had been rolled just when the clothes
had been taken off Randall's bed. Things were put straight and the light
blown out, "but," Randall's account goes on to say, "it wasn't long until
we heard some hammering in the room--tap-tap-tap-like. This lasted for a
few minutes, getting quicker and quicker. When it got very quick, their
bed started to move out across the room.... We then struck a match and
got the lamp. We searched the room thoroughly, and could find nobody.
Nobody had come in the door. We called the man of the house (Redmond); he
came into the room, saw the bed, and told us to push it back and get into
bed (he thought all the time one of us was playing the trick on the
other). I said I wouldn't stay in the other bed by myself, so I got in
with the others; we put out the light again, and it had only been a
couple of minutes out when the bed ran out on the floor with the three of
us. Richard struck a match again, and this time we all got up and put on
our clothes; we had got a terrible fright and couldn't stick it any
longer. We told the man of the house we would sit up in the room till
daylight. During the time we were sitting in the room we could hear
footsteps leaving the kitchen and coming up the stairs; it would stop on
the landing outside the door, and wouldn't come into the room. The
footsteps and noises continued through the house until daybreak."
The next night the footsteps and noises were continued, but the
unfortunate men did not experience any other annoyance. On the following
day the men went home, and it is to be hoped they were able to make up
for all the sleep they had lost on the two previous nights. They returned
on the Sunday, and from that night till they finally left the house the
men were disturbed practically every night. On Monday, 11th July the bed
was continually running out from the wall with its three occupants. They
kept the lamp alight, and a chair was seen to dance gaily out into the
middle of the floor. On the following Thursday we read of the same
happenings, with the addition that one of the boarders was lifted out
of the bed, though he felt no hand near him. It seems strange that they
should have gone through such a bad night exactly a week from the night
the poltergeist started its operations. So the account goes on; every
night that they slept in the room the hauntings continued, some nights
being worse than others. On Friday, 29th July, "the bed turned up on one
side and threw us out on the floor, and before we were thrown out, the
pillow was taken from under my head three times. When the bed rose up, it
fell back without making any noise. This bed was so heavy, it took both
the woman and the girl to pull it out from the wall without anybody in
it, and there were only three castors on it." The poltergeist must have
been an insistent fellow, for when the unfortunate men took refuge in the
other bed, they had not been long in it before it began to rise, but
could not get out of the recess it was in unless it was taken to pieces.
"It kept very bad," we read, "for the next few nights. So Mr. Murphy,
from the _Guardian_ office, and another man named Devereux, came and
stopped in the room one night."
The experiences of Murphy and Devereux on this night are contained in a
further statement, signed by Murphy and corroborated by Devereux. They
seem to have gone to work in a business-like manner, as before taking
their positions for the night they made a complete investigation of the
bedroom and house, so as to eliminate all chance of trickery or fraud. By
this time, it should be noted, one of Mrs. Redmond's lodgers had
evidently suffered enough from the poltergeist, as only two men are
mentioned in Murphy's statement, one sleeping in each bed. The two
investigators took up their position against the wall midway between the
two beds, so that they had a full view of the room and the occupants of
the beds. "The night," says Murphy, "was a clear, starlight night. No
blind obstructed the view from outside, and one could see the outlines of
the beds and their occupants clearly. At about 11.30 a tapping was heard
close at the foot of Randall's bed. My companion remarked that it
appeared to be like the noise of a rat eating at timber.
"Sinnott replied, 'You'll soon see the rat it is.' The tapping went on
slowly at first ... then the speed gradually increased to about a hundred
or a hundred and twenty per minute, the noise growing louder. This
continued for about five minutes, when it stopped suddenly. Randall then
spoke. He said: 'The clothes are slipping off my bed: look at them
sliding off. Good God, they are going off me.' Mr. Devereux immediately
struck a match, which he had ready in his hand. The bedclothes had partly
left the boy's bed, having gone diagonally towards the foot, going out at
the left corner, and not alone did they seem to be drawn off the bed, but
they appeared to be actually going back under the bed, much in the same
position one would expect bedclothes to be if a strong breeze were
blowing through the room at the time. But then everything was perfectly
calm."
A search was then made for wires or strings, but nothing of the sort
could be found. The bedclothes were put back and the light extinguished.
For ten minutes silence reigned, only to be broken by more rapping which
was followed by shouts from Randall. He was told to hold on to the
clothes, which were sliding off again. But this was of little use, for he
was heard to cry, "I'm going, I'm going, I'm gone," and when a light was
struck he was seen to slide from the bed and all the bedclothes with him.
Randall, who, with Sinnott, had shown considerable strength of mind by
staying in the house under such trying circumstances, had evidently had
enough of ghostly hauntings, for as he lay on the floor, trembling in
every limb and bathed in perspiration, he exclaimed: "Oh, isn't this
dreadful? I can't stand it; I can't stay here any longer." He was
eventually persuaded to get back to bed. Later on more rapping occurred
in a different part of the room, but it soon stopped, and the rest of the
night passed away in peace.
Randall and Sinnott went to their homes the next day, and Mr. Murphy
spent from eleven till long past midnight in their vacated room, but
heard and saw nothing unusual. He states in conclusion that "Randall
could not reach that part of the floor from which the rapping came on any
occasion without attracting my attention and that of my comrade."
The next case related by Professor Barrett occurred in County Fermanagh,
at a spot eleven miles from Enniskillen and about two miles from the
hamlet of Derrygonelly, where there dwelt a farmer and his family of four
girls and a boy, of whom the eldest was a girl of about twenty years of
age named Maggie. His cottage consisted of three rooms, the kitchen, or
dwelling-room, being in the centre, with a room on each side used as
bedrooms. In one of these two rooms Maggie slept with her sisters, and it
was here that the disturbances occurred, generally after they had all
gone to bed, when rappings and scratchings were heard which often lasted
all night. Rats were first blamed, but when things were moved by some
unseen agent, and boots and candles thrown out of the house, it was seen
that something more than the ordinary rat was at work. The old farmer,
who was a Methodist, sought advice from his class leader, and by his
directions laid an open Bible on the bed in the haunted room, placing a
big stone on the book. But the stone was lifted off by an unseen hand,
the Bible moved out of the room, and seventeen pages torn out of it. They
could not keep a lamp or candle in the house, so they went to their
neighbours for help, and, to quote the old farmer's words to Professor
Barrett, "Jack Flanigan came and lent us a lamp, saying the devil himself
would not steal it, as he had got the priest to sprinkle it with holy
water." "But that," the old man said, "did us no good either, for the
next day it took away that lamp also."
Professor Barrett, at the invitation of Mr. Thomas Plunkett of
Enniskillen, went to investigate. He got a full account from the farmer
of the freakish tricks which were continually being played in the house,
and gives a graphic account of what he himself observed: "After the
children, except the boy, had gone to bed, Maggie lay down on the bed
without undressing, so that her hands and feet could be observed. The
rest of us sat round the kitchen fire, when faint raps, rapidly
increasing in loudness, were heard coming apparently from the walls,
the ceiling, and various parts of the inner room, the door of which was
open. On entering the bedroom with a light the noises at first ceased,
but recommenced when I put the light on the window-sill in the kitchen. I
had the boy and his father by my side, and asked Mr. Plunkett to look
round the house outside. Standing in the doorway leading to the bedroom,
the noises recommenced, the light was gradually brought nearer, and after
much patience I was able to bring the light into the bedroom whilst the
disturbances were still loudly going on. At last I was able to go up to
the side of the bed, with the lighted candle in my hand, and closely
observed each of the occupants lying on the bed. The younger children
were apparently asleep, and Maggie was motionless; nevertheless, knocks
were going on everywhere around; on the chairs, the bedstead, the walls
and ceiling. The closest scrutiny failed to detect any movement on the
part of those present that could account for the noises, which were
accompanied by a scratching or tearing sound. Suddenly a large pebble
fell in my presence on to the bed; no one had moved to dislodge it, even
if it had been placed for the purpose. When I replaced the candle on the
window-sill in the kitchen, the knocks became still louder, like those
made by a heavy carpenter's hammer driving nails into flooring."
A couple of days afterwards, the Rev. Maxwell Close, M.A., a well-known
member of the S.P.R., joined Professor Barrett and Mr. Plunkett, and
together the party of three paid visits on two consecutive nights to the
haunted farm-house, and the noises were repeated. Complete search was
made, both inside and outside of the house, but no cause could be found.
When the party were leaving, the old farmer was much perturbed that they
had not "laid the ghost." When questioned he said he thought it was
fairies. He was asked if it had answered to questions by raps and he said
he had; "but it tells lies as often as truth, and oftener, I think. We
tried it, and it only knocked at L M N when we said the alphabet over."
Professor Barrett then tested it by asking mentally for a certain number
of raps, and immediately the actual number was heard. He repeated this
four times with a different number each time, and with the same result.
Perhaps the most interesting part of this particular case is at the end
of Professor Barrett's account, when, at the request of the old farmer,
Mr. Maxwell Close read some passages from Scripture, followed by the
Lord's Prayer, to an accompaniment of knockings and scratches, which were
at first so loud that the solemn words could hardly be heard, but which
gradually ceased as they all knelt in prayer. And since that night no
further disturbance occurred.
Another similar story comes from the north of Ireland. In the year 1866
(as recorded in the _Larne Reporter_ of March 31 in that year), two
families residing at Upper Ballygowan, near Larne, suffered a series of
annoyances from having stones thrown into their houses both by night and
by day. Their neighbours came in great numbers to sympathise with them in
their affliction, and on one occasion, after a volley of stones had been
poured into the house through the window, a young man who was present
fired a musket in the direction of the mysterious assailants. The reply
was a loud peal of satanic laughter, followed by a volley of stones and
turf. On another occasion a heap of potatoes, which was in an inner
apartment of one of the houses, was seen to be in commotion, and shortly
afterwards its contents were hurled into the kitchen, where the inmates
of the house, with some of their neighbours, were assembled.
The explanation given by some people of this mysterious affair was as
mysterious as the affair itself. It was said that many years before the
occurrences which we have now related took place, the farmer who then
occupied the premises in which they happened was greatly annoyed by
mischievous tricks which were played upon him by a company of fairies who
had a habit of holding their rendezvous in his house. The consequence was
that this man had to leave the house, which for a long time stood a
roofless ruin. After the lapse of many years, and when the story about
the dilapidated fabric having been haunted had probably been forgotten,
the people who then occupied the adjoining lands unfortunately took some
of the stones of the old deserted mansion to repair their own buildings.
At this the fairies, or "good people," were much incensed; and they
vented their displeasure on the offender in the way we have described.
A correspondent from County Wexford, who desires to have his name
suppressed, writes as follows: "Less than ten miles from the town
of ----, Co. Wexford, lives a small farmer named M----, who by dint of
thrift and industry has reared a large family decently and comfortably.
"Some twenty years ago Mr. M----, through the death of a relative, fell
in for a legacy of about a hundred pounds. As he was already in rather
prosperous circumstances, and as his old thatched dwelling-house was not
large enough to accommodate his increasing family, he resolved to spend
the money in building a new one.
"Not long afterwards building operations commenced, and in about a year
he had a fine slated cottage, or small farm-house, erected and ready for
occupation: so far very well; but it is little our friend M----
anticipated the troubles which were still ahead of him. He purchased some
new furniture at the nearest town, and on a certain day he removed all
the furniture which the old house contained into the new one; and in the
evening the family found themselves installed in the latter for good, as
they thought. They all retired to rest at their usual hour; scarcely were
they snugly settled in bed when they heard peculiar noises inside the
house. As time passed the din became terrible--there was shuffling of
feet, slamming of doors, pulling about of furniture, and so forth. The
man of the house got up to explore, but could see nothing, neither was
anything disturbed. The door was securely locked as he had left it. After
a thorough investigation, in which his wife assisted, he had to own he
could find no clue to the cause of the disturbance. The couple went to
bed again, and almost immediately the racket recommenced, and continued
more or less till dawn.
"The inmates were puzzled and frightened, but determined to try whether
the noise would be repeated the next night before telling their
neighbours what had happened. But the pandemonium experienced the first
night of their occupation was as nothing compared with what they had
to endure the second night and for several succeeding nights. Sleep was
impossible, and finally Mr. M---- and family in terror abandoned their
new home, and retook possession of their old one.
"That is the state of things to this day. The old house has been repaired
and is tenanted. The new house, a few perches off, facing the public
road, is used as a storehouse. The writer has seen it scores of times,
and its story is well known all over the country-side. Mr. M---- is
disinclined to discuss the matter or to answer questions; but it is said
he made several subsequent attempts to occupy the house, but always
failed to stand his ground when night came with its usual rowdy
disturbances.
"It is said that when building operations were about to begin, a little
man of bizarre appearance accosted Mr. M---- and exhorted him to build on
a different site; otherwise the consequences would be unpleasant for him
and his; while the local peasantry allege that the house was built across
a fairy pathway between two _raths_, and that this was the cause of the
trouble. It is quite true that there are two large _raths_ in the
vicinity, and the haunted house is directly in a bee-line between them.
For myself I offer no explanation; but I guarantee the substantial
accuracy of what I have stated above."
Professor Barrett, in the paper to which we have already referred, draws
certain conclusions from his study of this subject; one of the chief of
these is that "the widespread belief in fairies, pixies, gnomes,
brownies, etc., probably rests on the varied manifestations of
poltergeists." The popular explanation of the above story bears out this
conclusion, and it is further emphasized by the following, which comes
from Portarlington: A man near that town had saved five hundred pounds,
and determined to build a house with the money. He fixed on a certain
spot, and began to build, very much against the advice of his friends,
who said it was on a fairy path, and would bring him ill-luck. Soon the
house was finished, and the owner moved in; but the very first night his
troubles began, for some unseen hand threw the furniture about and broke
it, while the man himself was injured. Being unwilling to lose the value
of his money, he tried to make the best of things. But night after night
the disturbances continued, and life in the house was impossible; the
owner chose the better part of valour and left. No tenant has been found
since, and the house stands empty, a silent testimony to the power of the
poltergeist.
Poltergeistic phenomena from their very nature lend themselves to
spurious reproduction and imitation, as witness the famous case of Cock
Lane and many other similar stories. At least one well-known case
occurred in Ireland, and is interesting as showing that where fraud is at
work, close investigation will discover it. It is related that an old
Royal Irish Constabulary pensioner, who obtained a post as emergency man
during the land troubles, and who in 1892 was in charge of an evicted
farm in the Passage East district, was being continually disturbed by
furniture and crockery being thrown about in a mysterious manner. Reports
were brought to the police, and they investigated the matter; but nothing
was heard or seen beyond knocking on an inside wall of a bedroom in which
one of the sons was sleeping; this knocking ceased when the police were
in the bedroom, and no search was made in the boy's bed to see if he had
a stick. The police therefore could find no explanation, the noises
continued night after night, and eventually the family left and went to
live in Waterford. A great furore was raised when it was learnt that the
hauntings had followed them, and again investigation was made, but it
seems to have been more careful this time: an eye was kept on the
movements of the young son, and at least two independent witnesses saw
him throwing things about--fireirons and jam-pots--when he thought his
father was not looking. It seems to have been a plot between the mother
and son owing to the former's dislike to her husband's occupation, which
entailed great unpopularity and considerable personal risk. Fearing for
her own and her family's safety, the wife conceived of this plan to force
her husband to give up his post. Her efforts were successful, as the man
soon resigned his position and went to live elsewhere.[7]
[Footnote 7: _Proceedings_, S.P.R.]
CHAPTER V
HAUNTED PLACES
That houses are haunted and apparitions frequently seen therein are
pretty well established facts. The preceding chapters have dealt with
this aspect of the subject, and, in view of the weight of evidence to
prove the truth of the stories told in them, it would be hard for anyone
to doubt that there is such a thing as a haunted house, whatever
explanation maybe given of "haunting." We now turn to another division of
the subject--the outdoor ghost who haunts the roadways, country lanes,
and other places. Sceptics on ghostly phenomena are generally pretty full
of explanations when they are told of a ghost having been seen in a
particular spot, and the teller may be put down as hyper-imaginative, or
as having been deluded by moonlight playing through the trees; while
cases are not wanting where a reputation for temperance has been lost by
a man telling his experiences of a ghost he happens to have met along
some country lane; and the fact that there are cases where an imaginative
and nervous person has mistaken for a ghost a white goat or a sheet
hanging on a bush only strengthens the sceptic's disbelief and makes him
blind to the very large weight of evidence that can be arrayed against
him. Some day, no doubt, psychologists and scientists will be able to
give us a complete and satisfactory explanation of these abnormal
apparitions, but at present we are very much in the dark, and any
explanation that may be put forward is necessarily of a tentative nature.
The following story is sent us by Mr. J. J. Crowley, of the Munster and
Leinster Bank, who writes as follows: "The scene is outside Clonmel, on
the main road leading up to a nice old residence on the side of the
mountains called ---- Lodge. I happened to be visiting my friends, two
other bank men. It was night, about eight o'clock, moonless, and
tolerably dark, and when within a quarter of a mile or perhaps less of
a bridge over a small stream near the house I saw a girl, dressed in
white, wearing a black sash and long flowing hair, walk in the direction
from me up the culvert of the bridge and disappear down the other side.
At the time I saw it I thought it most peculiar that I could distinguish
a figure so far away, and thought a light of some sort must be falling on
the girl, or that there were some people about and that some of them had
struck a match. When I got to the place I looked about, but could find no
person there.
"I related this story to my friends some time after arriving, and was
then told that one of them had wakened up in his sleep a few nights
previously, and had seen an identical figure standing at the foot of his
bed, and rushed in fright from his room, taking refuge for the night with
the other lodger. They told the story to their landlady, and learned from
her that this apparition had frequently been seen about the place, and
was the spirit of one of her daughters who had died years previously
rather young, and who, previous to her death, had gone about just as we
described the figure we had seen. I had heard nothing of this story until
after I had seen the ghost, and consequently it could not be put down to
hallucination or over-imagination on my part."
The experiences of two constables of the Royal Irish Constabulary while
on despatch duty one winter's night in the early eighties has been sent
us by one of the men concerned, and provides interesting reading. It was
a fine moonlight night, with a touch of frost in the air, when these two
men set out to march the five miles to the next barrack. Brisk walking
soon brought them near their destination. The barrack which they were
approaching was on the left side of the road, and facing it on the other
side was a whitethorn hedge. The road at this point was wide, and as the
two constables got within fifty yards of the barrack, they saw a
policeman step out from this hedge and move across the road, looking
towards the two men as he did so. He was plainly visible to them both.
"He was bare-headed" (runs the account), "with his tunic opened down the
front, a stout-built man, black-haired, pale, full face, and short
mutton-chop whiskers." They thought he was a newly-joined constable who
was doing "guard" and had come out to get some fresh air while waiting
for a patrol to return. As the two men approached, he disappeared into
the shadow of the barrack, and apparently went in by the door; to their
amazement, when they came up they found the door closed and bolted, and
it was only after loud knocking that they got a sleepy "All right" from
some one inside, and after the usual challenging were admitted. There
was no sign of the strange policeman when they got in, and on inquiry
they learnt that no new constable had joined the station. The two men
realised then that they had seen a ghost, but refrained from saying
anything about it to the men at the station--a very sensible precaution,
considering the loneliness of the average policeman's life in this
country.
Some years afterwards the narrator of the above story learnt that a
policeman had been lost in a snow-drift near this particular barrack.
Whether this be the explanation we leave to others: the facts as stated
are well vouched for. There is no evidence to support the theory of
hallucination, for the apparition was so vivid that the idea of its being
other than normal never entered the constables' heads _till they had got
into the barrack_. When they found the door shut and bolted, their
amazement was caused by indignation against an apparently unsociable
or thoughtless comrade, and it was only afterwards, while discussing the
whole thing on their homeward journey, that it occurred to them that it
would have been impossible for any ordinary mortal to shut, bolt, and bar
a door without making a sound.
In the winter of 1840-1, in the days when snow and ice and all their
attendant pleasures were more often in evidence than in these degenerate
days, a skating party was enjoying itself on the pond in the grounds of
the Castle near Rathfarnham, Co. Dublin. Among the skaters was a man who
had with him a very fine curly-coated retriever dog. The pond was
thronged with people enjoying themselves, when suddenly the ice gave
way beneath him, and the man fell into the water; the dog went to his
rescue, and both were drowned. A monument was erected to perpetuate the
memory of the dog's heroic self-sacrifice, but only the pedestal now
remains. The ghost of the dog is said to haunt the grounds and the public
road between the castle gate and the Dodder Bridge. Many people have seen
the phantom dog, and the story is well known locally.
The ghost of a boy who was murdered by a Romany is said to haunt one of
the lodge gates of the Castle demesne, and the lodge-keeper states that
he saw it only a short time ago. The Castle, however, is now in
possession of Jesuit Fathers, and the Superior assures us that there has
been no sign of a ghost for a long time, his explanation being that the
place is so crowded out with new buildings "that even a ghost would have
some difficulty in finding a comfortable corner."
It is a fairly general belief amongst students of supernatural phenomena
that animals have the psychic faculty developed to a greater extent than
we have. There are numerous stories which tell of animals being scared
and frightened by something that is invisible to a human being, and the
explanation given is that the animal has seen a ghost which we cannot
see. A story that is told of a certain spot near the village of G----, in
Co. Kilkenny, supports this theory. The account was sent us by the
eye-witness of what occurred, and runs as follows: "I was out for a walk
one evening near the town of G---- about 8.45 P.M., and was crossing the
bridge that leads into the S. Carlow district with a small wire-haired
terrier dog. When we were about three-quarters of a mile out, the dog
began to bark and yelp in a most vicious manner at 'nothing' on the
left-hand side of the roadway and near to a straggling hedge. I felt a
bit creepy and that something was wrong. The dog kept on barking, but I
could at first see nothing, but on looking closely for a few seconds I
believe I saw a small grey-white object vanish gradually and noiselessly
into the hedge. No sooner had it vanished than the dog ceased barking,
wagged his tail, and seemed pleased with his successful efforts." The
narrator goes on to say that he made inquiries when he got home, and
found that this spot on the road had a very bad reputation, as people had
frequently seen a ghost there, while horses had often to be beaten,
coaxed, or led past the place. The explanation locally current is that a
suicide was buried at the cross-roads near at hand, or that it may be the
ghost of a man who is known to have been killed at the spot.
The following story has been sent us by the Rev. H.R.B. Gillespie, to
whom it was told by one of the witnesses of the incidents described
therein. One bright moonlight night some time ago a party consisting of a
man, his two daughters, and a friend were driving along a country road in
County Leitrim. They came to a steep hill, and all except the driver got
down to walk. One of the two sisters walked on in front, and after her
came the other two, followed closely by the trap. They had not gone far,
when those in rear saw a shabbily-dressed man walking beside the girl who
was leading. But she did not seem to be taking any notice of him, and,
wondering what he could be, they hastened to overtake her. But just when
they were catching her up the figure suddenly dashed into the shadow of a
disused forge, which stood by the side of the road, and as it did so the
horse, which up to this had been perfectly quiet, reared up and became
unmanageable. The girl beside whom the figure had walked had seen and
heard nothing. The road was not bordered by trees or a high hedge, so
that it could not have been some trick of the moonlight. One of the girls
described the appearance of the figure to a local workman, who said, "It
is very like a tinker who was found dead in that forge about six months
ago."
Here is another story of a haunted spot on a road, where a "ghost" was
seen, not at the witching hour of night, not when evening shadows
lengthen, but in broad daylight. It is sent to us by the percipient,
a lady, who does not desire to have her name mentioned. She was walking
along a country road in the vicinity of Cork one afternoon, and passed
various people. She then saw coming towards her a country-woman dressed
in an old-fashioned style. This figure approached her, and when it drew
near, suddenly staggered, as if under the influence of drink, and
disappeared! She hastened to the spot, but searched in vain for any clue
to the mystery; the road was bounded by high walls, and there was no
gateway or gap through which the figure might slip. Much mystified, she
continued on her way, and arrived at her destination. She there mentioned
what had occurred, and was then informed by an old resident in the
neighbourhood that that woman had constantly been seen up to twenty years
before, but not since that date. By the country-people the road was
believed to be haunted, but the percipient did not know this at the time.
The following is sent us by Mr. T. J. Westropp, and has points of its own
which are interesting; he states: "On the road from Bray to Windgates, at
the Deerpark of Kilruddy, is a spot which, whatever be the explanation,
is distinguished by weird sounds and (some say) sights. I on one occasion
was walking with a friend to catch the train at Bray about eleven o'clock
one evening some twenty-five years ago, when we both heard heavy steps
and rustling of bracken in the Deerpark; apparently some one got over the
gate, crossed the road with heavy steps and fell from the wall next Bray
Head, rustling and slightly groaning. The night was lightsome, though
without actual moonlight, and we could see nothing over the wall where we
had heard the noise.
"For several years after I dismissed the matter as a delusion; but when I
told the story to some cousins, they said that another relative (now a
Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin) had heard it too, and that there was
a local belief that it was the ghost of a poacher mortally wounded by
gamekeepers, who escaped across the road and died beyond it." Mr.
Westropp afterwards got the relative mentioned above to tell his
experience, and it corresponded with his own, except that the ghost was
visible. "The clergyman who was rector of Greystones at that time used to
say that he had heard exactly similar noises though he had seen nothing."
The following story of an occurrence near Dublin is sent us by a lady who
is a very firm believer in ghosts. On a fine night some years ago two
sisters were returning home from the theatre. They were walking along a
very lonely part of the Kimmage Road about two miles beyond the tram
terminus, and were chatting gaily as they went, when suddenly they heard
the "clink, clink" of a chain coming towards them. At first they thought
it was a goat or a donkey which had got loose, and was dragging its chain
along the ground. But they could see nothing, and could hear no noise but
the clink of the chain, although the road was clear and straight. Nearer
and nearer came the noise, gradually getting louder, and as it passed
them closely they distinctly felt a blast or whiff of air. They were
paralysed with an indefinable fear, and were scarcely able to drag
themselves along the remaining quarter of a mile to their house. The
elder of the two was in very bad health, and the other had almost to
carry her. Immediately she entered the house she collapsed, and had
to be revived with brandy.
An old woman, it seems, had been murdered for her savings by a tramp near
the spot where this strange occurrence took place, and it is thought that
there is a connection between the crime and the haunting of this part of
the Kimmage Road. Whatever the explanation may be, the whole story bears
every evidence of truth, and it would be hard for anyone to disprove it.
Churchyards are generally considered to be the hunting-ground of all
sorts and conditions of ghosts. People who would on all other occasions,
when the necessity arises, prove themselves to be possessed of at any
rate a normal amount of courage, turn pale and shiver at the thought of
having to pass through a churchyard at dead of night. It may be some
encouragement to such to state that out of a fairly large collection of
accounts of haunted places, only one relates to a churchyard. The story
is told by Mr. G. H. Millar of Edgeworthstown: "During the winter of
1875," he writes, "I attended a soiree about five miles from here. I was
riding, and on my way home about 11.30 P.M. I had to pass by the old
ruins and burial-ground of Abbeyshrule. The road led round by two sides
of the churchyard. It was a bright moonlight night, and as my girth broke
I was walking the horse quite slowly. As I passed the ruin, I saw what I
took to be a policeman in a long overcoat; he was walking from the centre
of the churchyard towards the corner, and, as far as I could see, would
be at the corner by the time I would reach it, and we would meet. Quite
suddenly, however, he disappeared, and I could see no trace of him. Soon
after I overtook a man who had left the meeting long before me. I
expressed wonder that he had not been farther on, and he explained that
he went a 'round-about' way to avoid passing the old abbey, as he did not
want to see 'The Monk.' On questioning him, he told me that a monk was
often seen in the churchyard."
A story told of a ghost which haunts a certain spot on an estate near the
city of Waterford, bears a certain resemblance to the last story for the
reason that it was only after the encounter had taken place in both cases
that it was known that anything out of the ordinary had been seen. In the
early eighties of last century ---- Court, near Waterford, was occupied
by Mr. and Mrs. S---- and their family of two young boys and a girl of
twenty-one years of age. Below the house is a marshy glen with a big open
drain cut through it. Late one evening the daughter was out shooting
rabbits near this drain and saw, as she thought, her half-brother
standing by the drain in a sailor suit, which like other small boys he
wore. She called to him once or twice, and to her surprise got no reply.
She went towards him, and when she got close he suddenly disappeared. The
next day she asked an old dependent, who had lived many years in the
place, if there was anything curious about the glen. He replied at once:
"Oh! you mean the little sailor man. Sure, he won't do you any harm."
This was the first she had heard of anything of the sort, but it was then
found that none of the country-people would go through the glen after
dusk.
Some time afterwards two sons of the clergyman of the parish in
which ---- Court stands were out one evening fishing in the drain, when
one of them suddenly said, "What's that sailor doing there?" The other
saw nothing, and presently the figure vanished. At the time of the
appearance neither had heard of Miss S----'s experience, and no one has
been able to explain it, as there is apparently no tradition of any
"little sailor man" having been there in the flesh.
Mr. Joseph M'Crossan, a journalist on the staff of the _Strabane
Chronicle_, has sent us a cutting from that paper describing a ghost
which appeared to men working in an engine-house at Strabane railway
station on two successive nights in October 1913. The article depicts
very graphically the antics of the ghost and the fear of the men who saw
it. Mr. M'Crossan interviewed one of these men (Pinkerton by name), and
the story as told in his words is as follows: "Michael Madden, Fred
Oliphant, and I were engaged inside a shed cleaning engines, when, at
half-past twelve (midnight), a knocking came to all the doors, and
continued without interruption, accompanied by unearthly yells. The three
of us went to one of the doors, and saw--I could swear to it without
doubt--the form of a man of heavy build. I thought I was about to faint.
My hair stood high on my head. We all squealed for help, when the
watchman and signalman came fast to our aid. Armed with a crowbar, the
signalman made a dash at the 'spirit,' but was unable to strike down the
ghost, which hovered about our shed till half-past two. It was moonlight,
and we saw it plainly. There was no imagination on our part. We three
cleaners climbed up the engine, and hid on the roof of the engine, lying
there till morning at our wit's end. The next night it came at half-past
one. Oliphant approached the spirit within two yards, but he then
collapsed, the ghost uttering terrible yells. I commenced work, but the
spirit 'gazed' into my face, and I fell forward against the engine. Seven
of us saw the ghost this time. Our clothes and everything in the shed
were tossed and thrown about."
The other engine-cleaners were interviewed and corroborated Pinkerton's
account. One of them stated that he saw the ghost run up and down a
ladder leading to a water tank and disappear into it, while the signalman
described how he struck at the ghost with a crowbar, but the weapon
seemed to go through it. The spirit finally took his departure through
the window.
The details of this affair are very much on the lines of the good
old-fashioned ghost yarns. But it is hard to see how so many men could
labour under the same delusion. The suggestion that the whole thing was
a practical joke may also be dismissed, for if the apparition had flesh
and bones the crowbar would have soon proved it. The story goes that a
man was murdered near the spot some time ago; whether there is any
connection between this crime and the apparition it would be hard to say.
However, we are not concerned with explanations (for who, as yet, can
explain the supernatural?); the facts as stated have all the appearance
of truth.
Mr. Patrick Ryan, of P----, Co. Limerick, gives us two stories as he
heard them related by Mr. Michael O'Dwyer of the same place. The former
is evidently a very strong believer in supernatural phenomena, but he
realises how strong is the unbelief of many, and in support of his
stories he gives names of several persons who will vouch for the truth
of them. With a few alterations, we give the story in his own words: "Mr.
O'Dwyer has related how one night, after he had carried the mails to the
train, he went with some fodder for a heifer in a field close to the
railway station near to which was a creamery. He discovered the animal
grazing near the creamery although how she came to be there was a
mystery, as a broad trench separated it from the rest of the field,
which is only spanned by a plank used by pedestrians when crossing the
field. 'Perhaps,' he said in explanation, 'it was that he _should_ go
there to hear.' It was about a quarter to twelve (midnight), and, having
searched the field in vain, he was returning home, when, as he crossed
the plank, he espied the heifer browsing peacefully in the aforementioned
part of the field which was near the creamery. He gave her the fodder
and--Heavens! was he suffering from delusions? Surely his ears were not
deceiving him--from the creamery funnel there arose a dense volume of
smoke mingled with the sharp hissing of steam and the rattling of cans,
all as if the creamery were working, and it were broad daylight. His
heifer became startled and bellowed frantically. O'Dwyer, himself a man
of nerves, yet possessing all the superstitions of the Celt, was startled
and ran without ceasing to his home near by, where he went quickly to
bed.
"O'Dwyer is not the only one who has seen this, as I have been told by
several of my friends how they heard it. Who knows the mystery
surrounding this affair!"
The second story relates to a certain railway station in the south of
Ireland; again we use Mr. Ryan's own words: "A near relative of mine" (he
writes) "once had occasion to go to the mail train to meet a friend.
While sitting talking to O'Dwyer, whom he met on the platform, he heard
talking going on in the waiting-room. O'Dwyer heard it also, and they
went to the door, but saw nothing save for the light of a waning moon
which filtered in through the window. Uncertain, they struck matches, but
saw nothing. Again they sat outside, and again they heard the talking,
and this time they did not go to look, for they knew about it. In the
memory of the writer a certain unfortunate person committed suicide on
the railway, and was carried to the waiting-room pending an inquest. He
lay all night there till the inquest was held next day. 'Let us not look
further into the matter,' said O'Dwyer, and my relative having
acquiesced, he breathed a shuddering prayer for the repose of the dead."
The following story, which has been sent as a personal experience by Mr.
William Mackey of Strabane, is similar in many ways to an extraordinary
case of retro-cognitive vision which occurred some years ago to two
English ladies who were paying a visit to Versailles; and who published
their experiences in a book entitled, _An Adventure_ (London, 1911). Mr.
Mackey writes: "It was during the severe winter of the Crimean War, when
indulging in my favourite sport of wild-fowl shooting, that I witnessed
the following strange scene. It was a bitterly cold night towards the end
of November or beginning of December; the silvery moon had sunk in the
west shortly before midnight; the sport had been all that could be
desired, when I began to realise that the blood was frozen in my veins,
and I was on the point of starting for home, when my attention was drawn
to the barking of a dog close by, which was followed in a few seconds by
the loud report of a musket, the echo of which had scarcely died away in
the silent night, when several musket-shots went off in quick succession;
this seemed to be the signal for a regular fusillade of musketry, and it
was quite evident from the nature of the firing that there was attack and
defence.
"For the life of me I could not understand what it all meant; not being
superstitious I did not for a moment imagine it was supernatural,
notwithstanding that my courageous dog was crouching in abject terror
between my legs; beads of perspiration began to trickle down from my
forehead, when suddenly there arose a flame as if a house were on fire,
but I knew from the position of the blaze (which was only a few hundred
yards from where I stood), that there was no house there, or any
combustible that would burn, and what perplexed me most was to see pieces
of burning thatch and timber sparks fall hissing into the water at my
feet. When the fire seemed at its height the firing appeared to weaken,
and when the clear sound of a bugle floated out on the midnight air, it
suddenly ceased, and I could hear distinctly the sound of cavalry coming
at a canter, their accoutrements jingling quite plainly on the frosty
air; in a very short time they arrived at the scene of the fight. I
thought it an eternity until they took their departure, which they
did at the walk.
"It is needless to say that, although the scene of this tumult was on my
nearest way home, I did not venture that way, as, although there are many
people who would say that I never knew what fear was, I must confess on
this occasion I was thoroughly frightened.
"At breakfast I got a good sound rating from my father for staying out so
late. My excuse was that I fell asleep and had a horrible dream, which I
related. When I finished I was told I had been dreaming with my eyes
open!--that I was not the first person who had witnessed this strange
sight. He then told me the following narrative: 'It was towards the end
of the seventeenth century that a widow named Sally Mackey and her three
sons lived on the outskirts of the little settlement of the Mackeys. A
warrant was issued by the Government against the three sons for high
treason, the warrant being delivered for execution to the officer in
command of the infantry regiment stationed at Lifford. A company was told
off for the purpose of effecting the arrest, and the troops set out from
Lifford at 11 P.M.
"'The cottage home of the Mackeys was approached by a bridle-path,
leading from the main road to Derry, which only permitted the military to
approach in single file; they arrived there at midnight, and the first
intimation the inmates had of danger was the barking, and then the
shooting, of the collie dog. Possessing as they did several stand of
arms, they opened fire on the soldiers as they came in view and killed
and wounded several; it was the mother, Sally Mackey, who did the
shooting, the sons loading the muskets. Whether the cottage went on fire
by accident or design was never known; it was only when the firing from
the cottage ceased and the door was forced open that the officer in
command rushed in and brought out the prostrate form of the lady, who was
severely wounded and burned. All the sons perished, but the soldiers
suffered severely, a good many being killed and wounded.
"'The firing was heard by the sentries at Lifford, and a troop of cavalry
was despatched to the scene of conflict, but only arrived in time to see
the heroine dragged from the burning cottage. She had not, however, been
fatally wounded, and lived for many years afterwards with a kinsmen. My
father remembered conversing with old men, when he was a boy, who
remembered her well. She seemed to take a delight in narrating incidents
of the fight to those who came to visit her, and would always finish up
by making them feel the pellets between the skin and her ribs.'"
CHAPTER VI
APPARITIONS AT OR AFTER DEATH
It has been said by a very eminent literary man that the accounts of the
appearance of people at or shortly after the moment of death make very
dull reading as a general rule. This may be; they are certainly not so
lengthy, or full of detail, as the accounts of haunted houses--nor could
such be expected. In our humble opinion, however, they are full of
interest, and open up problems of telepathy and thought-transference to
which the solutions may not be found for years to come. That people have
seen the image of a friend or relative at the moment of dissolution,
sometimes in the ordinary garb of life, sometimes with symbolical
accompaniments, or that they have been made acquainted in some abnormal
manner with the fact that such a one has passed away, seems to be
demonstrated beyond all reasonable doubt. But we would hasten to add that
such appearances are not a proof of existence after death, nor can they
be regarded in the light of special interventions of a merciful
Providence. Were they either they would surely occur far oftener. The
question is, Why do they occur at all? As it is, the majority of them
seem to happen for no particular reason, and are often seen by persons
who have little or no connection with the deceased, not by their nearest
and dearest, as one might expect. It is supposed they are _veridical_
hallucinations, _i.e._ ones which correspond with objective events at a
distance, and are caused by a telepathic impact conveyed from the mind of
an absent agent to the mind of the percipient.
From their nature they fall under different heads. The majority of them
occur at what may most conveniently be described as the time of death,
though how closely they approximate in reality to the instant of the
Great Change it is impossible to say. So we have divided this chapter
into three groups:
(1) Appearances at the time of death (as explained above).
(2) Appearances clearly _after_ the time of death.
(3) In this third group we hope to give three curious tales of
appearances some time _before_ death.
GROUP I
We commence this group with stories in which the phenomena connected with
the respective deaths were not perceived as representations of the human
form. In the first only sounds were heard. It is sent as a personal
experience by the Archdeacon of Limerick, Very Rev. J. A. Haydn, LL.D.
"In the year 1879 there lived in the picturesque village of Adare, at a
distance of about eight or nine miles from my residence, a District
Inspector named ----, with whom I enjoyed a friendship of the most
intimate and fraternal kind. At the time I write of, Mrs. ---- was
expecting the arrival of their third child. She was a particularly tiny
and fragile woman, and much anxiety was felt as to the result of the
impending event. He and she had very frequently spent pleasant days
at my house, with all the apartments of which they were thoroughly
acquainted--a fact of importance in this narrative.
"On Wednesday, October 17, 1879, I had a very jubilant letter from my
friend, announcing that the expected event had successfully happened on
the previous day, and that all was progressing satisfactorily. On the
night of the following Wednesday, October 22, I retired to bed at about
ten o'clock. My wife, the children, and two maid-servants were all
sleeping upstairs, and I had a small bed in my study, which was on the
ground floor. The house was shrouded in darkness, and the only sound that
broke the silence was the ticking of the hall-clock.
"I was quietly preparing to go to sleep, when I was much surprised at
hearing, with the most unquestionable distinctness, the sound of light,
hurried footsteps, exactly suggestive of those of an active, restless
young female, coming in from the hall door and traversing the hall. They
then, apparently with some hesitation, followed the passage leading to
the study door, on arriving at which they stopped. I then heard the sound
of a light, agitated hand apparently searching for the handle of the
door. By this time, being quite sure that my wife had come down and
wanted to speak to me, I sat up in bed, and called to her by name, asking
what was the matter. As there was no reply, and the sounds had ceased, I
struck a match, lighted a candle, and opened the door. No one was visible
or audible. I went upstairs, found all the doors shut and everyone
asleep. Greatly puzzled, I returned to the study and went to bed, leaving
the candle alight. Immediately the whole performance was circumstantially
repeated, but _this_ time the handle of the door was grasped by the
invisible hand, and _partly_ turned, then relinquished. I started out of
bed and renewed my previous search, with equally futile results. The
clock struck eleven, and from that time all disturbances ceased.
"On Friday morning I received a letter stating that Mrs. ---- had died at
about midnight on the previous Wednesday. I hastened off to Adare and had
an interview with my bereaved friend. With one item of our conversation I
will close. He told me that his wife sank rapidly on Wednesday, until
when night came on she became delirious. She spoke incoherently, as if
revisiting scenes and places once familiar. 'She thought she was in
_your_ house,' he said, 'and was apparently holding a conversation with
_you_, as she used to keep silence at intervals as if listening to your
replies.' I asked him if he could possibly remember the hour at which
the imaginary conversation took place. He replied that, curiously enough,
he could tell it accurately, as he had looked at his watch, and found the
time between half-past ten and eleven o'clock--the exact time of the
mysterious manifestations heard by me."
A lady sends the following personal experience: "I had a cousin in the
country who was not very strong, and on one occasion she desired me to go
to her, and accompany her to K----. I consented to do so, and arranged a
day to go and meet her: this was in the month of February. The evening
before I was to go, I was sitting by the fire in my small parlour about
5 P.M. There was no light in the room except what proceeded from the
fire. Beside the fireplace was an armchair, where my cousin usually sat
when she was with me. Suddenly that chair was illuminated by a light
so intensely bright that it actually seemed to _heave_ under it, though
the remainder of the room remained in semi-darkness. I called out in
amazement, 'What has happened to the chair?' In a moment the light
vanished, and the chair was as before. In the morning I heard that my
cousin had died about the same time that I saw the light."
We now come to the ordinary type, _i.e._ where a figure appears. The
following tale illustrates a point we have already alluded to, namely,
that the apparition is sometimes seen by a disinterested person, and
_not_ by those whom one would naturally expect should see it. A lady
writes as follows: "At Island Magee is the Knowehead Lonan, a long,
hilly, narrow road, bordered on either side by high thorn-hedges and
fields. Twenty years ago, when I was a young girl, I used to go to the
post-office at the Knowehead on Sunday mornings down the Lonan, taking
the dogs for the run. One Sunday as I had got to the top of the hill
on my return journey, I looked back, and saw a man walking rapidly after
me, but still a good way off. I hastened my steps, for the day was muddy,
and I did not want him to see me in a bedraggled state. But he seemed to
come on so fast as to be soon close behind me, and I wondered he did not
pass me, so on we went, I never turning to look back. About a quarter of
a mile farther on I met A. B. on 'Dick's Brae,' on her way to church or
Sunday school, and stopped to speak to her. I wanted to ask who the man
was, but he seemed to be so close that I did not like to do so, and
expected he had passed. When I moved on, I was surprised to find he was
still following me, while my dogs were lagging behind with downcast heads
and drooping tails.
"I then passed a cottage where C. D. was out feeding her fowls. I spoke
to her, and then feeling that there was no longer anyone behind, looked
back, and saw the man standing with her. I would not have paid any
attention to the matter had not A. B. been down at our house that
afternoon, and I casually asked her:
"'Who was the man who was just behind me when I met you on Dick's Brae?'
"'What man?' said she; and noting my look of utter astonishment, added,
'I give you my word I never met a soul but yourself from the time I left
home till I went down to Knowehead Lonan.'
"Next day C. D. came to work for us, and I asked her who was the man who
was standing beside her after I passed her on Sunday.
"'Naebody!' she replied,' I saw naebody but yoursel'.'
"It all seemed very strange, and so they thought too. About three weeks
later news came that C. D.'s only brother, a sailor, was washed overboard
that Sunday morning."
The following story is not a first-hand experience, but is sent by the
gentleman to whom it was related by the percipient. The latter said to
him:
"I was sitting in this same chair I am in at present one evening, when I
heard a knock at the front door. I went myself to see who was there, and
on opening the door saw my old friend P. Q. standing outside with his gun
in his hand. I was surprised at seeing him, but asked him to come in and
have something. He came inside the porch into the lamplight, and stood
there for a few moments; then he muttered something about being sorry he
had disturbed me, and that he was on his way to see his brother, Colonel
Q., who lived about a mile farther on. Without any further explanation he
walked away towards the gate into the dusk.
"I was greatly surprised and perplexed, but as he had gone I sat down
again by the fire. About an hour later another knock came to the door,
and I again went out to see who was there. On opening it I found P. Q.'s
groom holding a horse, and he asked me where he was, as he had missed his
way in the dark, and did not know the locality. I told him, and then
asked him where he was going, and why, and he replied that his master was
dead (at his own house about nine miles away), and that he had been sent
to announce the news to Colonel Q."
Miss Grene, of Grene Park, Co. Tipperary, relates a story which was told
her by the late Miss ----, sister of a former Dean of Cashel. The latter,
an old lady, stated that one time she was staying with a friend in a
house in the suburbs of Dublin. In front of the house was the usual grass
plot, divided into two by a short gravel path which led down to a gate
which opened on to the street. She and her friend were one day engaged in
needlework in one of the front rooms, when they heard the gate opening,
and on looking out the window they saw an elderly gentleman of their
acquaintance coming up the path. As he approached the door both
exclaimed: "Oh, how good of him to come and see us!" As he was not shown
into the sitting-room, one of them rang the bell, and said to the maid
when she appeared, "You have not let Mr. So-and-so in; he is at the door
for some little time." The maid went to the hall door, and returned to
say that there was no one there. Next day they learnt that he had died
just at the hour that they had seen him coming up the path.
The following tale contains a curious point. A good many years ago the
Rev. Henry Morton, now dead, held a curacy in Ireland. He had to pass
through the graveyard when leaving his house to visit the parishioners.
One beautiful moonlight night he was sent for to visit a sick person, and
was accompanied by his brother, a medical man, who was staying with him.
After performing the religious duty they returned through the churchyard,
and were chatting about various matters when to their astonishment a
figure passed them, both seeing it. This figure left the path, and went
in among the gravestones, and then disappeared. They could not understand
this at all, so they went to the spot where the disappearance took place,
but, needless to say, could find nobody after the most careful search.
Next morning they heard that the person visited had died just after their
departure, while the most marvellous thing of all was that the burial
took place at the very spot where they had seen the phantom disappear.
The Rev. D. B. Knox communicates the following: In a girls'
boarding-school several years ago two of the boarders were sleeping
in a large double-bedded room with two doors. About two o'clock in the
morning the girls were awakened by the entrance of a tall figure in
clerical attire, the face of which they did not see. They screamed in
fright, but the figure moved in a slow and stately manner past their
beds, and out the other door. It also appeared to one or two of the other
boarders, and seemed to be looking for some one. At length it reached the
bed of one who was evidently known to it. The girl woke up and recognised
her father. He did not speak, but gazed for a few moments at his
daughter, and then vanished. Next morning a telegram was handed to her
which communicated the sad news that her father had died on the previous
evening at the hour when he appeared to her.
Here is a story of a very old type. It occurred a good many years ago. A
gentleman named Miller resided in Co. Wexford, while his friend and
former schoolfellow lived in the North of Ireland. This long friendship
led them to visit at each other's houses from time to time, but for Mr.
Miller there was a deep shadow of sorrow over these otherwise happy
moments, for, while he enjoyed the most enlightened religious opinions,
his friend was an unbeliever. The last time they were together Mr. Scott
said, "My dear friend, let us solemnly promise that whichever of us shall
die first shall appear to the other after death, if it be possible." "Let
it be so, if God will," replied Mr. Miller. One morning some time after,
about three o'clock, the latter was awakened by a brilliant light in his
bedroom; he imagined that the house must be on fire, when he felt what
seemed to be a hand laid on him, and heard his friend's voice say
distinctly, "There is a God, just but terrible in His judgments," and all
again was dark. Mr. Miller at once wrote down this remarkable experience.
Two days later he received a letter announcing Mr. Scott's death on the
night, and at the hour, that he had seen the light in his room.
The above leads us on to the famous "Beresford Ghost," which is generally
regarded as holding the same position relative to Irish ghosts that Dame
Alice Kyteler used to hold with respect to Irish witches and wizards. The
story is so well known, and has been published so often, that only a
brief allusion is necessary, with the added information that the best
version is to be found in Andrew Lang's _Dreams and Ghosts_, chapter
viii. (Silver Library Edition). Lord Tyrone appeared after death one
night to Lady Beresford at Gill Hall, in accordance with a promise (as in
the last story) made in early life. He assured her that the religion as
revealed by Jesus Christ was the only true one (both he and Lady
Beresford had been brought up Deists), told her that she was _enceinte_
and would bear a son, and also foretold her second marriage, and the time
of her death. In proof whereof he drew the bed-hangings through an iron
hook, wrote his name in her pocket-book, and finally placed a hand cold
as marble on her wrist, at which the sinews shrunk up. To the day of her
death Lady Beresford wore a black ribbon round her wrist; this was taken
off before her burial, and it was found the nerves were withered, and the
sinews shrunken, as she had previously described to her children.
GROUP II
We now come to some stories of apparitions seen some time after the hour
of death. Canon Ross-Lewin, of Limerick, furnishes the following incident
in his own family. "My uncle, John Dillon Ross-Lewin, lieutenant in the
30th Regiment, was mortally wounded at Inkerman on November 5, 1854, and
died on the morning of the 6th. He appeared that night to his mother, who
was then on a visit in Co. Limerick, intimating his death, and indicating
where the wound was. The strangest part of the occurrence is, that when
news came later on of the casualties at Inkerman, the first account as to
the wound did _not_ correspond with what the apparition indicated to his
mother, but the final account did. Mrs. Ross-Lewin was devoted to her
son, and he was equally attached to her; she, as the widow of a field
officer who fought at Waterloo, would be able to comprehend the battle
scene, and her mind at the time was centred on the events of the Crimean
War."
A clergyman, who desires that all names be suppressed, sends the
following: "In my wife's father's house a number of female servants were
kept, of whom my wife, before she was married, was in charge. On one
occasion the cook took ill with appendicitis, and was operated on in the
Infirmary, where I attended her as hospital chaplain. She died, however,
and was buried by her friends. Some days after the funeral my wife was
standing at a table in the kitchen which was so placed that any person
standing at it could see into the passage outside the kitchen, if the
door happened to be open. [The narrator enclosed a rough plan which made
the whole story perfectly clear.] She was standing one day by herself at
the table, and the door was open. This was in broad daylight, about
eleven o'clock in the morning in the end of February or beginning of
March. She was icing a cake, and therefore was hardly thinking of ghosts.
Suddenly she looked up from her work, and glanced through the open
kitchen door into the passage leading past the servants' parlour into the
dairy. She saw quite distinctly the figure of the deceased cook pass
towards the dairy; she was dressed in the ordinary costume she used to
wear in the mornings, and seemed in every respect quite normal. My wife
was not, at the moment, in the least shocked or surprised, but on the
contrary she followed, and searched in the dairy, into which she was just
in time to see her skirts disappearing. Needless to say, nothing was
visible."
Canon Courtenay Moore, M.A., Rector of Mitchelstown, contributes a
personal experience. "It was about eighteen years ago--I cannot fix the
exact date--that Samuel Penrose returned to this parish from the
Argentine. He was getting on so well abroad that he would have remained
there, but his wife fell ill, and for her sake he returned to Ireland. He
was a carpenter by trade, and his former employer was glad to take him
into his service again. Sam was a very respectable man of sincere
religious feelings. Soon after his return he met with one or two rather
severe accidents, and had a strong impression that a fatal one would
happen him before long; and so it came to pass. A scaffolding gave way
one day, and precipitated him on to a flagged stone floor. He did not die
immediately, but his injuries proved fatal. He died in a Cork hospital
soon after his admission: I went to Cork to officiate at his funeral.
About noon the next day I was standing at my hall door, and the form of
poor Sam, the upper half of it, seemed to pass before me. He looked
peaceful and happy--it was a momentary vision, but perfectly distinct.
The truncated appearance puzzled me very much, until some time after I
read a large book by F.W.H. Myers, in which he made a scientific analysis
and induction of such phenomena, and said that they were almost
universally seen in this half-length form. I do not profess to explain
what I saw: its message, if it had a message, seemed to be that poor Sam
was at last at rest and in peace."
A story somewhat similar to the above was related to us, in which the
apparition seems certainly to have been sent with a definite purpose. Two
maiden ladies, whom we shall call Miss A. X. and Miss B. Y., lived
together for a good many years. As one would naturally expect, they were
close friends, and had the most intimate relations with each other, both
being extremely religious women. In process of time Miss B. Y. died, and
after death Miss A. X. formed the impression, for some unknown reason,
that all was not well with her friend--that, in fact, her soul was not at
rest. This thought caused her great uneasiness and trouble of mind. One
day she was sitting in her armchair thinking over this, and crying
bitterly. Suddenly she saw in front of her a brilliant light, in the
midst of which was her friend's face, easily recognisable, but
transfigured, and wearing a most beatific expression. She rushed towards
it with her arms outstretched, crying, "Oh! B., why have you come?" At
this the apparition faded away, but ever after Miss A. N. was perfectly
tranquil in mind with respect to her friend's salvation.
This group may be brought to a conclusion by a story sent by Mr. T.
MacFadden. It is not a personal experience, but happened to his father,
and in an accompanying letter he states that he often heard the latter
describe the incidents related therein, and that he certainly saw the
ghost.
"The island of Inishinny, which is the scene of this story, is one of the
most picturesque islands on the Donegal coast. With the islands of Gola
and Inismaan it forms a perfectly natural harbour and safe anchorage for
ships during storms. About Christmas some forty or fifty years ago a
small sailing-ship put into Gola Roads (as this anchorage is called)
during a prolonged storm, and the captain and two men had to obtain
provisions from Bunbeg, as, owing to their being detained so long, their
supply was almost exhausted. They had previously visited the island on
several occasions, and made themselves at home with the people from the
mainland who were temporarily resident upon it.
"The old bar at its best was never very safe for navigation, and this
evening it was in its element, as with every storm it presented one
boiling, seething mass of foam. The inhabitants of the island saw the
frail small boat from the ship securely inside the bar, and prophesied
some dire calamity should the captain and the two sailors venture to
return to the ship that night. But the captain and his companions, having
secured sufficient provisions, decided (as far as I can remember the
story), even in spite of the entreaties of those on shore, to return to
the ship. The storm was increasing, and what with their scanty knowledge
of the intricacies of the channel, and the darkness of the night, certain
it was the next morning their craft was found washed ashore on the
island, and the body of the captain was discovered by the first man who
made the round of the shore looking for logs of timber, or other useful
articles washed ashore from wrecks. The bodies of the two sailors were
never recovered, and word was sent immediately to the captain's wife in
Derry, who came in a few days and gave directions for the disposal of her
husband's corpse.
"The island was only temporarily inhabited by a few people who had cattle
and horses grazing there for some weeks in the year, and after this
catastrophe they felt peculiarly lonely, and sought refuge from their
thoughts by all spending the evening together in one house. This
particular evening they were all seated round the fire having a chat,
when they heard steps approaching the door. Though the approach was
fine, soft sand, yet the steps were audible as if coming on hard ground.
They knew there was no one on the island save the few who were sitting
quietly round the fire, and so in eager expectation they faced round to
the door. What was their _amazement_ when the door opened, and a tall,
broad-shouldered man appeared and filled the whole doorway--and that man
the captain who had been buried several days previously. He wore the
identical suit in which he had often visited the island and even the
"cheese-cutter" cap, so common a feature of sea-faring men's apparel, was
not wanting. All were struck dumb with terror, and a woman who sat in a
corner opposite the door, exclaimed in Irish in a low voice to my father:
"'O God! Patrick, there's the captain.'
"My father, recovering from the first shock, when he saw feminine courage
finding expression in words, said in Irish to the apparition:
"'Come in!'
"They were so certain of the appearance that they addressed him in his
own language, as they invariably talked Irish in the district in those
days. But no sooner had he uttered the invitation than the figure,
without the least word or sign, moved back, and disappeared from their
view. They rushed out, but could discover no sign of any living
person within the confines of the island. Such is the true account of an
accident, by which three men lost their lives, and the ghostly sequel, in
which one of them appeared to the eyes of four people, two of whom are
yet alive, and can vouch for the accuracy of this narrative."
GROUP III
We now come to the third group of this chapter, in which we shall relate
two first-hand experiences of tragedies being actually witnessed some
time before they happened, as well as a reliable second-hand story of an
apparition being seen two days before the death occurred. The first of
these is sent by a lady, the percipient, who desires that her name be
suppressed; with it was enclosed a letter from a gentleman who stated
that he could testify to the truth of the following facts:
"The morning of May 18, 1902, was one of the worst that ever dawned in
Killarney. All through the day a fierce nor'-wester raged, and huge
white-crested waves, known locally as 'The O'Donoghue's white horses,'
beat on the shores of Lough Leane. Then followed hail-showers such as I
have never seen before or since. Hailstones quite as large as small
marbles fell with such rapidity, and seemed so hard that the glass in the
windows of the room in which I stood appeared to be about to break into
fragments every moment. I remained at the window, gazing out on the
turbulent waters of the lake. Sometimes a regular fog appeared, caused by
the terrible downpour of rain and the fury of the gale.
"During an occasional lull I could see the islands plainly looming in the
distance. In one of these clear intervals, the time being about 12.30
P.M., five friends of mine were reading in the room in which I stood.
'Quick! quick!' I cried. 'Is that a boat turned over?' My friends all ran
to the windows, but could see nothing. I persisted, however, and said,
'It is on its side, with the keel turned towards us, and it is empty.'
Still none of my friends could see anything. I then ran out, and got one
of the men-servants to go down to a gate, about one hundred yards nearer
the lake than where I stood. He had a powerful telescope, and remained
with great difficulty in the teeth of the storm with his glass for
several minutes, but could see nothing. When he returned another man took
his place, but he also failed to see anything.
"I seemed so distressed that those around me kept going backwards and
forwards to the windows, and then asked me what was the size of the boat
I had seen. I gave them the exact size, measuring by landmarks. They then
assured me that I must be absolutely wrong, as it was on rare occasions
that a 'party' boat, such as the one I described, could venture on the
lakes on such a day. Therefore there were seven persons who thought I was
wrong in what I had seen. I still contended that I saw the boat, the
length of which I described, as plainly as possible.
"The day wore on, and evening came. The incident was apparently more or
less forgotten by all but me, until at 8 A.M. on the following morning,
when the maid brought up tea, her first words were, 'Ah, miss, is it not
terrible about the accident!' Naturally I said, 'What accident, Mary?'
She replied, 'There were thirteen people drowned yesterday evening out of
a four-oared boat.' That proved that the boat I had seen at 12.30 P.M.
was a vision foreshadowing the wreck of the boat off Darby's Garden at
5.30 P.M. The position, shape, and size of the boat seen by me were
identical with the one that was lost on the evening of May 18, 1902."
The second story relates how a lady witnessed a vision (shall we call it)
of a suicide a week before the terrible deed was committed. This incident
surely makes it clear that such cannot be looked upon as special
interventions of Providence, for if the lady had recognised the man, she
might have prevented his rash act. Mrs. MacAlpine says: "In June 1889, I
drove to Castleblaney, in Co. Monaghan, to meet my sister: I expected her
at three o'clock, but as she did not come by that train, I put up the
horse and went for a walk in the demesne. At length becoming tired, I sat
down on a rock by the edge of a lake. My attention was quite taken up
with the beauty of the scene before me, as it was a glorious summer's
day. Presently I felt a cold chill creep through me, and a curious
stiffness came over my limbs, as if I could not move, though wishing to
do so. I felt frightened, yet chained to the spot, and as if impelled to
stare at the water straight before me. Gradually a black cloud seemed
to rise, and in the midst of it I saw a tall man, in a tweed suit, jump
into the water, and sink. In a moment the darkness was gone, and I again
became sensible of the heat and sunshine, but I was awed, and felt eerie.
This happened about June 25, and on July 3 a Mr.----, a bank clerk,
committed suicide by drowning himself in the lake.[8]"
[Footnote 8: _Proceedings S.P.R._, x. 332.]
The following incident occurred in the United States, but, as it is
closely connected with this country, it will not seem out of place to
insert it here. It is sent by Mr. Richard Hogan as the personal
experience of his sister, Mrs. Mary Murnane, and is given in her own
words.
"On the 4th of August 1886, at 10.30 o'clock in the morning, I left my
own house, 21 Montrose St., Philadelphia, to do some shopping. I had not
proceeded more than fifty yards when on turning the corner of the street
I observed my aunt approaching me within five or six yards. I was greatly
astonished, for the last letter I had from home (Limerick) stated that
she was dying of consumption, but the thought occurred to me that she
might have recovered somewhat, and come out to Philadelphia. This opinion
was quickly changed as we approached each other, for our eyes met, and
she had the colour of one who had risen from the grave. I seemed to feel
my hair stand on end, for just as we were about to pass each other she
turned her face towards me, and I gasped, 'My God, she is dead, and is
going to speak to me!' but no word was spoken, and she passed on. After
proceeding a short distance I looked back, and she continued on to
Washington Avenue, where she disappeared from me. There was no other
person near at the time, and being so close, I was well able to note what
she wore. She held a sunshade over her head, and the clothes, hat, etc.,
were those I knew so well before I left Ireland. I wrote home telling
what I had seen, and asking if she was dead. I received a reply saying
she was not dead at the date I saw her, but had been asking if a letter
had come from me for some days before her death. It was just two days
before she actually died that I had seen her."
CHAPTER VII
BANSHEES, AND OTHER DEATH-WARNINGS
Of all Irish ghosts, fairies, or bogles, the Banshee (sometimes called
locally the "Boh[-e][-e]ntha" or "Bank[-e][-e]ntha") is the best known to
the general public: indeed, cross-Channel visitors would class her with
pigs, potatoes, and other fauna and flora of Ireland, and would expect
her to make manifest her presence to them as being one of the sights of
the country. She is a spirit with a lengthy pedigree--how lengthy no man
can say, as its roots go back into the dim, mysterious past. The most
famous Banshee of ancient times was that attached to the kingly house of
O'Brien, Aibhill, who haunted the rock of Craglea above Killaloe, near
the old palace of Kincora. In A.D. 1014 was fought the battle of
Clontarf, from which the aged king, Brian Boru, knew that he would never
come away alive, for the previous night Aibhill had appeared to him to
tell him of his impending fate. The Banshee's method of foretelling death
in olden times differed from that adopted by her at the present day: now
she wails and wrings her hands, as a general rule, but in the old Irish
tales she is to be found
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/14099