{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14099/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14099","id":"gutenberg_14099","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14099","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Ghost stories","Ghosts -- Ireland"],"text":"TRUE IRISH GHOST STORIES\n\n                              COMPILED BY\n\n                        ST JOHN D. SEYMOUR, B.D.\n\n            AUTHOR OF \"IRISH WITCHCRAFT AND DEMONOLOGY\" ETC.\n\n                                  AND\n\n                      HARRY L. NELIGAN, D.I.R.I.C.\n\n                                 1914\n\n\n\n\nTO THREE LIVELY POLTERGEISTS W----, J----, AND G----, THIS BOOK IS\nDEDICATED BY THE COMPILERS\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\n\nThis book had its origin on this wise. In my _Irish Witchcraft and\nDemonology_, published in October 1913, I inserted a couple of famous\n17th century ghost stories which described how lawsuits were set on foot\nat the instigation of most importunate spirits. It then occurred to me\nthat as far as I knew there was no such thing in existence as a book of\nIrish ghost stories. Books on Irish fairy and folk-lore there were in\nabundance--some of which could easily be spared--but there was no book of\nghosts. And so I determined to supply this sad omission.\n\nIn accordance with the immortal recipe for making hare-soup I had first\nto obtain my ghost stories. Where was I to get them from? For myself I\nknew none worth publishing, nor had I ever had any strange experiences,\nwhile I feared that my friends and acquaintances were in much the\nsame predicament. Suddenly a brilliant thought struck me. I wrote out a\nletter, stating exactly what I wanted, and what I did _not_ want, and\nrequesting the readers of it either to forward me ghost stories, or else\nto put me in the way of getting them: this letter was sent to the\nprincipal Irish newspapers on October 27, and published on October 29,\nand following days.\n\nI confess I was a little doubtful as to the result of my experiment, and\nwondered what response the people of Ireland would make to a letter which\nmight place a considerable amount of trouble on their shoulders. My mind\nwas speedily set at rest. On October 30, the first answers reached me.\nWithin a fortnight I had sufficient material to make a book; within a\nmonth I had so much material that I could pick and choose--and more was\npromised. Further on in this preface I give a list of those persons whose\ncontributions I have made use of, but here I should like to take the\nopportunity of thanking all those ladies and gentlemen throughout the\nlength and breadth of Ireland, the majority of whom were utter strangers\nto me, who went to the trouble of sitting down and writing out page after\npage of stories. I cannot forget their kindness, and I am only sorry that\nI could not make use of more of the matter that was sent to me. As one\nwould expect, this material varied in value and extent. Some persons\ncontributed incidents, of little use by themselves, but which worked in\nas helpful illustrations, while others forwarded budgets of stories,\nlong and short. To sift the mass of matter, and bring the various\nportions of it into proper sequence, would have been a lengthy and\ndifficult piece of work had I not been ably assisted by Mr. Harry L.\nNeligan, D.I.; but I leave it as a pleasant task to the Higher Critic to\ndiscover what portions of the book were done by him, and what should be\nattributed to me.\n\nSome of the replies that reached me were sufficiently amusing. One\ngentleman, who carefully signed himself \"Esquire,\" informed me that he\nwas \"after\" reading a great book of ghost stories, but several letters of\nmine failed to elicit any subsequent information. Another person offered\nto _sell_ me ghost stories, while several proffered tales that had been\nworked up comically. One lady addressed a card to me as follows:\n\n\"THE REVD. ----\n\n(Name and address lost of the clergyman whose letter appeared lately in\n_Irish Times, re_ \"apparitions\")\n\nCAPPAWHITE.\"\n\nAs the number of clergy in the above village who deal in ghost stories is\nstrictly limited, the Post Office succeeded in delivering it safely. I\nwrote at once in reply, and got a story. In a letter bearing the Dublin\npostmark a correspondent, veiled in anonymity, sent me a religious tract\nwith the curt note, \"_Re_ ghost stories, will you please read this.\" I\ndid so, but still fail to see the sender's point of view. Another person\nin a neighbouring parish declared that if I were their rector they would\nforthwith leave my church, and attend service elsewhere. There are many,\nI fear, who adopt this attitude; but it will soon become out of date.\n\nSome of my readers may cavil at the expression, \"_True_ Ghost Stories.\"\nFor myself I cannot guarantee the genuineness of a single incident in\nthis book--how could I, as none of them are my own personal experience?\nThis at least I _can_ vouch for, that the majority of the stories were\nsent to me as first or second-hand experiences by ladies and gentlemen\nwhose statement on an ordinary matter of fact would be accepted without\nquestion. And further, in order to prove the _bona fides_ of this book, I\nmake the following offer. The original letters and documents are in my\ncustody at Donohil Rectory, and I am perfectly willing to allow any\nresponsible person to examine them, subject to certain restrictions,\nthese latter obviously being that names of people and places must not be\ndivulged, for I regret to say that in very many instances my\ncorrespondents have laid this burden upon me. This is to be the more\nregretted, because the use of blanks, or fictitious initials, makes\na story appear much less convincing than if real names had been employed.\n\nJust one word. I can imagine some of my readers (to be numbered by the\nthousand, I hope) saying to themselves: \"Oh! Mr. Seymour has left out\nsome of the best stories. Did he never hear of such-and-such a haunted\nhouse, or place?\" Or, \"I could relate an experience better than anything\nhe has got.\" If such there be, may I beg of them to send me on their\nstories with all imagined speed, as they may be turned to account at\nsome future date.\n\nI beg to return thanks to the following for permission to make use of\nmatter in their publications: Messrs. Sealy, Bryers, and Walker,\nproprietors of the _New Ireland Review_; the editor of the _Review of\nReviews_; the editor of the _Proceedings_ of the Society for Psychical\nResearch; the editor of the _Journal_ of the American S.P.R.; the editor\nof the _Occult Review_, and Mr. Elliott O'Donnell; Messrs. Longmans,\nGreen and Co., and Mrs. Andrew Lang; the editor of the _Wide World\nMagazine_; the representatives of the late Rev. Dr. Craig.\n\nIn accordance with the promise made in my letter, I have now much\npleasure in giving the names of the ladies and gentlemen who have\ncontributed to, or assisted in, the compilation of this book, and as well\nto assure them that Mr. Neligan and I are deeply grateful to them for\ntheir kindness.\n\nMrs. S. Acheson, Drumsna, Co. Roscommon; Mrs. M. Archibald, Cliftonville\nRoad, Belfast; J.J. Burke, Esq., U.D.C., Rahoon, Galway; Capt. R.\nBeamish, Passage West, Co. Cork; Mrs. A. Bayly, Woodenbridge, Co.\nWicklow; R. Blair, Esq., South Shields; Jas. Byrne, Esq.,\nCastletownroche, Co. Cork; Mrs. Kearney Brooks, Killarney; H. Buchanan,\nEsq., Inishannon, Co. Cork; J.A. Barlow, Esq., Bray, Co. Wicklow; J.\nCarton, Esq., King's Inns Library, Dublin; Miss A. Cooke, Cappagh House,\nCo. Limerick; J.P.V. Campbell, Esq. _Solicitor_, Dublin; Rev. E.G.S.\nCrosthwait, M.A., Littleton, Thurles; J. Crowley, Esq., Munster and\nLeinster Bank, Cashel; Miss C.M. Doyle, Ashfield Road, Dublin; J. Ralph\nDagg, Esq., Baltinglass; Gerald A. Dillon, Esq., Wicklow; Matthias and\nMiss Nan Fitzgerald, Cappagh House, Co. Limerick; Lord Walter Fitzgerald,\nKilkea Castle; Miss Finch, Rushbrook, Co. Cork; Rev. H.R.B. Gillespie,\nM.A., Aghacon Rectory, Roscrea; Miss Grene, Grene Park, Co. Tipperary;\nL.H. Grubb, Esq. J.P., D.L., Ardmayle, Co. Tipperary; H. Keble Gelston,\nEsq., Letterkenny; Ven. J.A. Haydn, LL.D., Archdeacon of Limerick; Miss\nDorothy Hamilton, Portarlington; Richard Hogan, Esq., Bowman St.,\nLimerick; Mrs. G. Kelly, Rathgar, Dublin; Miss Keefe, Carnahallia, Doon;\nRev. D.B. Knox, Whitehead, Belfast; Rev. J.D. Kidd, M.A., Castlewellan;\nE.B. de Lacy, Esq., Marlboro' Road, Dublin; Miss K. Lloyd, Shinrone,\nKing's Co.; Canon Lett, M.A., Aghaderg Rectory; T. MacFadden, Esq.,\nCarrigart, Co. Donegal; Wm. Mackey, Esq., Strabane; Canon Courtenay\nMoore, M.A., Mitchelstown, Co. Cork; J. McCrossan, Esq., _Journalist_,\nStrabane; G.H. Miller, Esq., J.P., Edgeworthstown; Mrs. P.C.F. Magee,\nDublin; Rev. R.D. Paterson, B.A., Ardmore Rectory; E.A. Phelps, Esq.,\nTrinity College Library; Mrs. Pratt, Munster and Leinster Bank,\nRathkeale; Miss Pim, Monkstown, Co. Dublin; Miss B. Parker, Passage West,\nCo. Cork; Henry Reay, Esq., Harold's Cross, Dublin; M.J. Ryan, Esq.,\nTaghmon, Co. Wexford; P. Ryan, Esq., Nicker, Pallasgrean; Canon\nRoss-Lewin, Kilmurry, Limerick; Miss A. Russell, Elgin Road, Dublin;\nLt.-Col. the Hon. F. Shore, Thomastown, Co. Kilkenny; Mrs. Seymour,\nDonohil Rectory; Mrs. E.L. Stritch, North Great Georges St., Dublin;\nM.C.R. Stritch, Esq., Belturbet; Very Rev. the Dean of St. Patrick's.\nD.D.; Mrs. Spratt, Thurles; W.S. Thompson, Esq., Inishannon, Co. Cork;\nMrs, Thomas, Sandycove, Dublin; Mrs. Walker, Glenbeigh, Co. Kerry; Miss\nWolfe, Skibbereen, Co. Cork; Mrs. E. Welsh, Nenagh; T.J. Westropp, Esq.,\nM.A., M.R.I.A., Sandymount, Dublin; Mrs. M.A. Wilkins, Rathgar, Dublin;\nJohn Ward, Esq., Ballymote; Mrs. Wrench, Ballybrack, Co. Dublin; Miss\nK.E. Younge, Upper Oldtown, Rathdowney.\n\nST. JOHN D. SEYMOUR.\n\nDONOHIL RECTORY,\n\nCAPPAWHITE, TIPPERARY,\n_February 2_, 1914.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nCHAP.\n\n   I. HAUNTED HOUSES IN OR NEAR DUBLIN\n  II. HAUNTED HOUSES IN CONN'S HALF\n III. HAUNTED HOUSES IN MOGH'S HALF\n  IV. POLTERGEISTS\n   V. HAUNTED PLACES\n  VI. APPARITIONS AT OR AFTER DEATH\n VII. BANSHEES, AND OTHER DEATH-WARNINGS\nVIII. MISCELLANEOUS SUPERNORMAL EXPERIENCES\n  IX. LEGENDARY AND ANCESTRAL GHOSTS\n   X. MISTAKEN IDENTITY--CONCLUSION\n\n\n\n\nTRUE IRISH GHOST STORIES\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nHAUNTED HOUSES IN OR NEAR DUBLIN\n\n\nOf all species of ghostly phenomena, that commonly known as \"haunted\nhouses\" appeals most to the ordinary person. There is something very\neerie in being shut up within the four walls of a house with a ghost. The\npoor human being is placed at such a disadvantage. If we know that a\ngateway, or road, or field has the reputation of being haunted, we can in\nnearly every case make a detour, and so avoid the unpleasant locality.\nBut the presence of a ghost in a house creates a very different state of\naffairs. It appears and disappears at its own sweet will, with a total\ndisregard for our feelings: it seems to be as much part and parcel of the\ndomicile as the staircase or the hall door, and, consequently, nothing\nshort of leaving the house or of pulling it down (both of these solutions\nare not always practicable) will free us absolutely from the unwelcome\npresence.\n\nThere is also something so natural, and at the same time so unnatural, in\nseeing a door open when we know that no human hand rests on the knob, or\nin hearing the sound of footsteps, light or heavy, and feeling that it\ncannot be attributed to the feet of mortal man or woman. Or perhaps a\nform appears in a room, standing, sitting, or walking--in fact, situated\nin its three dimensions apparently as an ordinary being of flesh and\nblood, until it proves its unearthly nature by vanishing before our\nastonished eyes. Or perhaps we are asleep in bed. The room is shrouded\nin darkness, and our recumbent attitude, together with the weight of\nbed-clothes, hampers our movements and probably makes us more cowardly. A\nman will meet pain or danger boldly if he be standing upright--occupying\nthat erect position which is his as Lord of Creation; but his courage\ndoes not well so high if he be supine. We are awakened suddenly by the\nfeel that some superhuman Presence is in the room. We are transfixed with\nterror, we cannot find either the bell-rope or the matches, while we\n_dare_ not leap out of bed and make a rush for the door lest we should\nencounter we know not what. In an agony of fear, we feel it moving\ntowards us; it approaches closer, and yet closer, to the bed, and--for\nwhat may or may not then happen we must refer our readers to the pages of\nthis book.\n\nBut the sceptical reader will say: \"This is all very well, but--there are\n_no_ haunted houses. All these alleged strange happenings are due to a\nvivid imagination, or else to rats and mice.\" (The question of deliberate\nand conscious fraud may be rejected in almost every instance.) This\nsimple solution has been put forward so often that it should infallibly\nhave solved the problem long ago. But will such a reader explain how it\nis that the noise made by rats and mice can resemble slow, heavy\nfootsteps, or else take the form of a human being seen by several\npersons; or how our imagination can cause doors to open and shut, or else\ncreate a conglomeration of noises which, physically, would be beyond the\npower of ordinary individuals to reproduce? Whatever may be the ultimate\nexplanation, we feel that there is a great deal in the words quoted by\nProfessor Barrett: \"In spite of all reasonable scepticism, it is\ndifficult to avoid accepting, at least provisionally, the conclusion that\nthere are, in a certain sense, haunted houses, _i.e._ that there are\nhouses in which similar quasi-human apparitions have occurred at\ndifferent times to different inhabitants, under circumstances which\nexclude the hypothesis of suggestion or expectation.\"\n\nWe must now turn to the subject of this chapter. Mrs. G. Kelly, a lady\nwell known in musical circles in Dublin, sends as her own personal\nexperience the following tale of a most quiet haunting, in which the\nspectral charwoman (!) does not seem to have entirely laid aside all her\nmundane habits.\n\n\"My first encounter with a ghost occurred about twenty years ago. On that\noccasion I was standing in the kitchen of my house in ---- Square, when a\nwoman, whom I was afterwards to see many times, walked down the stairs\ninto the room. Having heard the footsteps outside, I was not in the least\nperturbed, but turned to look who it was, and found myself looking at a\ntall, stout, elderly woman, wearing a bonnet and old-fashioned mantle.\nShe had grey hair, and a benign and amiable expression. We stood gazing\nat each other while one could count twenty. At first I was not at all\nfrightened, but gradually as I stood looking at her an uncomfortable\nfeeling, increasing to terror, came over me. This caused me to retreat\nfarther and farther back, until I had my back against the wall, and then\nthe apparition slowly faded.\n\n\"This feeling of terror, due perhaps to the unexpectedness of her\nappearance, always overcame me on the subsequent occasions on which I\nsaw her. These occasions numbered twelve or fifteen, and I have seen her\nin every room in the house, and at every hour of the day, during a period\nof about ten years. The last time she appeared was ten years ago. My\nhusband and I had just returned from a concert at which he had been\nsinging, and we sat for some time over supper, talking about the events\nof the evening. When at last I rose to leave the room, and opened the\ndining-room door, I found my old lady standing on the mat outside with\nher head bent towards the door in the attitude of listening. I called\nout loudly, and my husband rushed to my side. That was the last time I\nhave seen her.\"\n\n\"One peculiarity of this spectral visitant was a strong objection to\ndisorder or untidyness of any kind, or even to an alteration in the\ngeneral routine of the house. For instance, she showed her disapproval of\nany stranger coming to sleep by turning the chairs face downwards on the\nfloor in the room they were to occupy. I well remember one of our guests,\nhaving gone to his room one evening for something he had forgotten,\nremarking on coming downstairs again, 'Well, you people have an\nextraordinary manner of arranging your furniture! I have nearly broken my\nbones over one of the bedroom chairs which was turned down on the floor.'\nAs my husband and I had restored that chair twice already to its proper\nposition during the day, we were not much surprised at his remarks,\nalthough we did not enlighten him. The whole family have been disturbed\nby a peculiar knocking which occurred in various rooms in the house,\nfrequently on the door or wall, but sometimes on the furniture, quite\nclose to where we had been sitting. This was evidently loud enough to be\nheard in the next house, for our next-door neighbour once asked my\nhusband why he selected such curious hours for hanging his pictures.\nAnother strange and fairly frequent occurrence was the following. I had\ngot a set of skunk furs which I fancied had an unpleasant odour, as this\nfur sometimes has; and at night I used to take it from my wardrobe and\nlay it on a chair in the drawing-room, which was next my bedroom. The\nfirst time that I did this, on going to the drawing-room I found, to my\nsurprise, my muff in one corner and my stole in another. Not for a moment\nsuspecting a supernatural agent, I asked my servant about it, and she\nassured me that she had not been in the room that morning. Whereupon I\ndetermined to test the matter, which I did by putting in the furs late at\nnight, and taking care that I was the first to enter the room in the\nmorning. I invariably found that they had been disturbed.\"\n\nThe following strange and pathetic incident occurred in a well-known\nSquare in the north side of the city. In or about a hundred years ago a\nyoung officer was ordered to Dublin, and took a house there for himself\nand his family. He sent on his wife and two children, intending to join\nthem in the course of a few days. When the latter and the nurse arrived,\nthey found only the old charwoman in the house, and she left shortly\nafter their arrival. Finding that something was needed, the nurse went\nout to purchase it. On her return she asked the mother were the children\nall right, as she had seen two ghostly forms flit past her on the\ndoor-step! The mother answered that she believed they were, but on going\nup to the nursery they found both the children with their throats cut.\nThe murderer was never brought to justice, and no motive was ever\ndiscovered for the crime. The unfortunate mother went mad, and it is said\nthat an eerie feeling still clings to the house, while two little heads\nare sometimes seen at the window of the room where the deed was\ncommitted.\n\nA most weird experience fell to the lot of Major Macgregor, and was\ncontributed by him to _Real Ghost Stories_, the celebrated Christmas\nnumber of the _Review of Reviews_. He says: \"In the end of 1871 I went\nover to Ireland to visit a relative living in a Square in the north side\nof Dublin. In January 1872 the husband of my relative fell ill. I sat up\nwith him for several nights, and at last, as he seemed better, I went to\nbed, and directed the footman to call me if anything went wrong. I soon\nfell asleep, but some time after was awakened by a push on the left\nshoulder. I started up, and said, 'Is there anything wrong?' I got no\nanswer, but immediately received another push. I got annoyed, and said\n'Can you not speak, man! and tell me if there is anything wrong.' Still\nno answer, and I had a feeling I was going to get another push when I\nsuddenly turned round and caught a human hand, warm, plump, and soft. I\nsaid, 'Who are you?' but I got no answer. I then tried to pull the person\ntowards me, but could not do so. I then said, 'I _will_ know who you\nare!' and having the hand tight in my right hand, with my left I felt the\nwrist and arm, enclosed, as it seemed to me, in a tight-fitting sleeve of\nsome winter material with a linen cuff, but when I got to the elbow all\ntrace of an arm ceased. I was so astounded that I let the hand go, and\njust then the clock struck two. Including the mistress of the house,\nthere were five females in the establishment, and I can assert that the\nhand belonged to none of them. When I reported the adventure, the\nservants exclaimed, 'Oh, it must have been the master's old Aunt Betty,\nwho lived for many years in the upper part of that house, and had died\nover fifty years before at a great age.' I afterwards heard that the room\nin which I felt the hand had been considered haunted, and very curious\nnoises and peculiar incidents occurred, such as the bed-clothes torn off,\n&c. One lady got a slap in the face from some invisible hand, and when\nshe lit her candle she saw as if something opaque fell or jumped off\nthe bed. A general officer, a brother of the lady, slept there two\nnights, but preferred going to a hotel to remaining the third night. He\nnever would say what he heard or saw, but always said the room was\nuncanny. I slept for months in the room afterwards, and was never in the\nleast disturbed.\"\n\nA truly terrifying sight was witnessed by a clergyman in a school-house a\ngood many years ago. This cleric was curate of a Dublin parish, but\nresided with his parents some distance out of town in the direction of\nMalahide. It not infrequently happened that he had to hold meetings in\nthe evenings, and on such occasions, as his home was so far away, and as\nthe modern convenience of tramcars was not then known, he used to sleep\nin the schoolroom, a large bare room, where the meetings were held. He\nhad made a sleeping-apartment for himself by placing a pole across one\nend of the room, on which he had rigged up two curtains which, when drawn\ntogether, met in the middle. One night he had been holding some meeting,\nand when everybody had left he locked up the empty schoolhouse, and went\nto bed. It was a bright moonlight night, and every object could be seen\nperfectly clearly. Scarcely had he got into bed when he became conscious\nof some invisible presence. Then he saw the curtains agitated at one end,\nas if hands were grasping them on the outside. In an agony of terror he\nwatched these hands groping along outside the curtains till they reached\nthe middle. The curtains were then drawn a little apart, and a Face\npeered in--an awful, evil Face, with an expression of wickedness and hate\nupon it which no words could describe. It looked at him for a few\nmoments, then drew back again, and the curtains closed. The clergyman\nhad sufficient courage left to leap out of bed and make a thorough\nexamination of the room, but, as he expected, he found no one. He dressed\nhimself as quickly as possible, walked home, and never again slept a\nnight in that schoolroom.\n\nThe following tale, sent by Mr. E. B. de Lacy, contains a most\nextraordinary and unsatisfactory element of mystery. He says: \"When I was\na boy I lived in the suburbs, and used to come in every morning to school\nin the city. My way lay through a certain street in which stood a very\ndismal semi-detached house, which, I might say, was closed up regularly\nabout every six months. I would see new tenants coming into it, and then\nin a few months it would be 'To let' again. This went on for eight or\nnine years, and I often wondered what was the reason. On inquiring one\nday from a friend, I was told that it had the reputation of being\nhaunted.\n\n\"A few years later I entered business in a certain office, and one day it\nfell to my lot to have to call on the lady who at that particular period\nwas the tenant of the haunted house. When we had transacted our business\nshe informed me that she was about to leave. Knowing the reputation of\nthe house, and being desirous of investigating a ghost-story, I asked her\nif she would give me the history of the house as far as she knew it,\nwhich she very kindly did as follows:\n\n\"About forty years ago the house was left by will to a gentleman\nnamed ----. He lived in it for a short time, when he suddenly went mad,\nand had to be put in an asylum. Upon this his agents let the house to a\nlady. Apparently nothing unusual happened for some time, but a few months\nlater, as she went down one morning to a room behind the kitchen, she\nfound the cook hanging by a rope attached to a hook in the ceiling. After\nthe inquest the lady gave up the house.\n\n\"It was then closed up for some time, but was again advertised 'To let,'\nand a caretaker, a woman, was put into it. One night about one o'clock, a\nconstable going his rounds heard some one calling for help from the\nhouse, and found the caretaker on the sill of one of the windows holding\non as best she could. He told her to go in and open the hall door and let\nhim in, but she refused to enter the room again. He forced open the door\nand succeeded in dragging the woman back into the room, only to find she\nhad gone mad.\n\n\"Again the house was shut up, and again it was let, this time to a lady,\non a five-years' lease. However, after a few months' residence, she\nlocked it up, and went away. On her friends asking her why she did so,\nshe replied that she would rather pay the whole five years' rent than\nlive in it herself, or allow anyone else to do so, but would give no\nother reason.\n\n\"'I believe I was the next person to take this house,' said the lady who\nnarrated the story to me (_i.e._ Mr. de Lacy). 'I took it about eighteen\nmonths ago on a three years' lease in the hopes of making money by taking\nin boarders, but I am now giving it up because none of them will stay\nmore than a week or two. They do not give any definite reason as to why\nthey are leaving; they are careful to state that it is not because they\nhave any fault to find with me or my domestic arrangements, but they\nmerely say _they do not like the rooms_! The rooms themselves, as you can\nsee, are good, spacious, and well lighted. I have had all classes of\nprofessional men; one of the last was a barrister, and he said that he\nhad no fault to find except that _he did not like the rooms_! I myself do\nnot believe in ghosts, and I have never seen anything strange here or\nelsewhere; and if I had known the house had the reputation of being\nhaunted, I would never have rented it.\"\n\nMarsh's library, that quaint, old-world repository of ponderous tomes, is\nreputed to be haunted by the ghost of its founder, Primate Narcissus\nMarsh. He is said to frequent the inner gallery, which contains what was\nformerly his own private library: he moves in and out among the cases,\ntaking down books from the shelves, and occasionally throwing them down\non the reader's desk as if in anger. However, he always leaves things in\nperfect order. The late Mr. ----, who for some years lived in the\nlibrarian's rooms underneath, was a firm believer in this ghost, and said\nhe frequently heard noises which could only be accounted for by the\npresence of a nocturnal visitor; the present tenant is more sceptical.\nThe story goes that Marsh's niece eloped from the Palace, and was married\nin a tavern to the curate of Chapelizod. She is reported to have written\na note consenting to the elopement, and to have then placed it in one of\nher uncle's books to which her lover had access, and where he found it.\nAs a punishment for his lack of vigilance, the Archbishop is said to be\ncondemned to hunt for the note until he find it--hence the ghost.\n\nThe ghost of a deceased Canon was seen in one of the Dublin cathedrals\nby several independent witnesses, one of whom, a lady, gives her own\nexperience as follows: \"Canon ---- was a personal friend of mine, and\nwe had many times discussed ghosts and spiritualism, in which he was a\nprofound believer, having had many supernatural experiences himself.\nIt was during the Sunday morning service in the cathedral that I saw\nmy friend, who had been dead for two years, sitting inside the\ncommunion-rails. I was so much astonished at the flesh-and blood\nappearance of the figure that I took off my glasses and wiped them with\nmy handkerchief, at the same time looking away from him down the church.\nOn looking back again he was still there, and continued to sit there for\nabout ten or twelve minutes, after which he faded away. I remarked a\nchange in his personal appearance, which was, that his beard was longer\nand whiter than when I had known him--in fact, such a change as would\nhave occurred _in life_ in the space of two years. Having told my\nhusband of the occurrence on our way home, he remembered having heard\nsome talk of an appearance of this clergyman in the cathedral since his\ndeath. He hurried back to the afternoon service, and asked the robestress\nif anybody had seen Canon ----'s ghost. She informed him that _she_ had,\nand that he had also been seen by one of the sextons in the cathedral. I\nmention this because in describing his personal appearance she had\nremarked the same change as I had with regard to the beard.\"\n\nSome years ago a family had very uncanny experiences in a house in\nRathgar, and subsequently in another in Rathmines. These were\ncommunicated by one of the young ladies to Mrs. M. A. Wilkins, who\npublished them in the _Journal_ of the American S.P.R.,[1] from which\nthey are here taken. The Rathgar house had a basement passage leading to\na door into the yard, and along this passage her mother and the children\nused to hear dragging, limping steps, and the latch of the door rattling,\nbut no one could ever be found when search was made. The house-bells were\nold and all in a row, and on one occasion they all rang, apparently of\ntheir own accord. The lady narrator used to sleep in the back drawing\nroom, and always when the light was put out she heard strange noises, as\nif some one was going round the room rubbing paper along the wall, while\nshe often had the feeling that a person was standing beside her bed. A\ncousin, who was a nurse, once slept with her, and also noticed these\nstrange noises. On one occasion this room was given up to a very\nmatter-of-fact young man to sleep in, and next morning he said that the\nroom was very strange, with queer noises in it.\n\n[Footnote 1: For September 1913.]\n\nHer mother also had an extraordinary experience in the same house. One\nevening she had just put the baby to bed, when she heard a voice calling\n\"mother.\" She left the bedroom, and called to her daughter, who was in a\nlower room, \"What do you want?\" But the girl replied that she had _not_\ncalled her; and then, in her turn, asked her mother if _she_ had been in\nthe front room, for she had just heard a noise as if some one was trying\nto fasten the inside bars of the shutters across. But her mother had been\nupstairs, and no one was in the front room. The experiences in the\nRathmines house were of a similar auditory nature, _i.e._ the young\nladies heard their names called, though it was found that no one in the\nhouse had done so.\n\nOccasionally it happens that ghosts inspire a law-suit. In the\nseventeenth century they were to be found actively urging the adoption of\nlegal proceedings, but in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries they\nplay a more passive part. A case about a haunted house took place in\nDublin in the year 1885, in which the ghost may be said to have won. A\nMr. Waldron, a solicitor's clerk, sued his next-door neighbour, one\nMr. Kiernan, a mate in the merchant service, to recover \u00a3500 for damages\ndone to his house.\n\nKiernan altogether denied the charges, but asserted that Waldron's house\nwas notoriously haunted. Witnesses proved that every night, from August\n1884 to January 1885, stones were thrown at the windows and doors, and\nextraordinary and inexplicable occurrences constantly took place.\n\nMrs. Waldron, wife of the plaintiff, swore that one night she saw one of\nthe panes of glass of a certain window cut through with a diamond, and a\nwhite hand inserted through the hole. She at once caught up a bill-hook\nand aimed a blow at the hand, cutting off one of the fingers. This finger\ncould not be found, nor were any traces of blood seen.\n\nA servant of hers was sorely persecuted by noises and the sound of\nfootsteps. Mr. Waldron, with the aid of detectives and policemen,\nendeavoured to find out the cause, but with no success. The witnesses\nin the case were closely cross-examined, but without shaking their\ntestimony. The facts appeared to be proved, so the jury found for\nKiernan, the defendant. At least twenty persons had testified on oath to\nthe fact that the house had been known to have been haunted.[2]\n\n[Footnote 2: See _Sights and Shadows_, p. 42 ff.]\n\nBefore leaving the city and its immediate surroundings, we must relate\nthe story of an extraordinary ghost, somewhat lacking in good manners,\nyet not without a certain distorted sense of humour. Absolutely\nincredible though the tale may seem, yet it comes on very good authority.\nIt was related to our informant, Mr. D., by a Mrs. C., whose daughter he\nhad employed as governess. Mrs. C., who is described as \"a woman of\nrespectable position and good education,\" heard it in her turn from her\nfather and mother. In the story the relationship of the different persons\nseems a little involved, but it would appear that the initial A belongs\nto the surname both of Mrs. C.'s father and grandfather.\n\nThis ghost was commonly called \"Corney\" by the family, and he answered to\nthis though it was not his proper name. He disclosed this latter to Mr.\nC.'s mother, who forgot it. Corney made his presence manifest to the\nA---- family shortly after they had gone to reside in ---- Street in the\nfollowing manner. Mr. A---- had sprained his knee badly, and had to use a\ncrutch, which at night was left at the head of his bed. One night his\nwife heard some one walking on the lobby, thump, thump, thump, as if\nimitating Mr. A----. She struck a match to see if the crutch had been\nremoved from the head of the bed, but it was still there.\n\nFrom that on Corney commenced to talk, and he spoke every day from his\nusual habitat, the coal-cellar off the kitchen. His voice sounded as if\nit came out of an empty barrel.\n\nHe was very troublesome, and continually played practical jokes on the\nservants, who, as might be expected, were in terror of their lives of\nhim; so much so that Mrs. A---- could hardly induce them to stay with\nher. They used to sleep in a press-bed in the kitchen, and in order to\nget away from Corney, they asked for a room at the top of the house,\nwhich was given to them. Accordingly the press-bed was moved up there.\nThe first night they went to retire to bed after the change, the doors of\nthe press were flung open, and Corney's voice said, \"Ha! ha! you devils,\nI am here before you! I am not confined to any particular part of this\nhouse.\"\n\nCorney was continually tampering with the doors, and straining locks\nand keys. He only manifested himself in material form to two persons;\nto ----, who died with the fright, and to Mr. A---- (Mrs. C.'s father)\nwhen he was about seven years old. The latter described him to his mother\nas a naked man, with a curl on his forehead, and a skin like a\nclothes-horse(!).\n\nOne day a servant was preparing fish for dinner. She laid it on the\nkitchen table while she went elsewhere for something she wanted. When she\nreturned the fish had disappeared. She thereupon began to cry, fearing\nshe would be accused of making away with it. The next thing she heard was\nthe voice of Corney from the coal-cellar saying, \"There, you blubbering\nfool, is your fish for you!\" and, suiting the action to the word, the\nfish was thrown out on the kitchen floor.\n\nRelatives from the country used to bring presents of vegetables, and\nthese were often hung up by Corney like Christmas decorations round the\nkitchen. There was one particular press in the kitchen he would not allow\nanything into. He would throw it out again. A crock with meat in pickle\nwas put into it, and a fish placed on the cover of the crock. He threw\nthe fish out.\n\nSilver teaspoons were missing, and no account of them could be got until\nMrs. A---- asked Corney to confess if he had done anything with them. He\nsaid, \"They are under the ticking in the servants' bed.\" He had, so he\nsaid, a daughter in ---- Street, and sometimes announced that he was\ngoing to see her, and would not be here to-night.\n\nOn one occasion he announced that he was going to have \"company\" that\nevening, and if they wanted any water out of the soft-water tank, to take\nit before going to bed, as he and his friends would be using it.\nSubsequently that night five or six distinct voices were heard, and next\nmorning the water in the tank was as black as ink, and not alone that,\nbut the bread and butter in the pantry were streaked with the marks of\nsooty fingers.\n\nA clergyman in the locality, having heard of the doings of Corney, called\nto investigate the matter. He was advised by Mrs. A---- to keep quiet,\nand not to reveal his identity, as being the best chance of hearing\nCorney speak. He waited a long time, and as the capricious Corney\nremained silent, he left at length. The servants asked, \"Corney, why did\nyou not speak?\" and he replied, \"I could not speak while that good man\nwas in the house.\" The servants sometimes used to ask him where he was.\nHe would reply, \"The Great God would not permit me to tell you. I was a\nbad man, and I died the death.\" He named the room in the house in which\nhe died.\n\nCorney constantly joined in any conversation carried on by the people of\nthe house. One could never tell when a voice from the coal-cellar would\nerupt into the dialogue. He had his likes and dislikes: he appeared to\ndislike anyone that was not afraid of him, and would not talk to them.\nMrs. C.'s mother, however, used to get good of him by coaxing. An uncle,\nhaving failed to get him to speak one night, took the kitchen poker, and\nhammered at the door of the coal-cellar, saying, \"I'll make you speak\";\nbut Corney wouldn't. Next morning the poker was found broken in two. This\nuncle used to wear spectacles, and Corney used to call him derisively,\n\"Four-eyes.\" An uncle named Richard came to sleep one night, and\ncomplained in the morning that the clothes were pulled off him. Corney\ntold the servants in great glee, \"I slept on Master Richard's feet all\nnight.\"\n\nFinally Mr. A---- made several attempts to dispose of his lease, but with\nno success, for when intending purchasers were being shown over the house\nand arrived at Corney's domain, the spirit would begin to speak and\nthe would-be purchaser would fly. They asked him if they changed house\nwould he trouble them. He replied, \"No! but if they throw down this\nhouse, I will trouble the stones.\"\n\nAt last Mrs. A---- appealed to him to keep quiet, and not to injure\npeople who had never injured him. He promised that he would do so, and\nthen said, \"Mrs. A----, you will be all right now, for I see a lady in\nblack coming up the street to this house, and she will buy it.\" Within\nhalf an hour a widow called and purchased the house. Possibly Corney is\nstill there, for our informant looked up the Directory as he was writing,\nand found the house marked \"Vacant.\"\n\nNear Blanchardstown, Co. Dublin, is a house, occupied at present, or up\nto very recently, by a private family; it was formerly a monastery, and\nthere are said to be secret passages in it. Once a servant ironing in the\nkitchen saw the figure of a nun approach the kitchen window and look in.\nOur informant was also told by a friend (now dead), who had it from the\nlady of the house, that once night falls, no doors can be kept closed.\nIf anyone shuts them, almost immediately they are flung open again with\nthe greatest violence and apparent anger. If left open there is no\ntrouble or noise, but light footsteps are heard, and there is a vague\nfeeling of people passing to and fro. The persons inhabiting the house\nare matter-of-fact, unimaginative people, who speak of this as if it were\nan everyday affair. \"So long as we leave the doors unclosed they don't\nharm us: why should we be afraid of them?\" Mrs. ---- said. Truly a most\nphilosophical attitude to adopt!\n\nA haunted house in Kingstown, Co. Dublin, was investigated by Professor\nW. Barrett and Professor Henry Sidgwick. The story is singularly well\nattested (as one might expect from its being inserted in the pages of the\n_Proceedings S.P.R._[3]), as the apparition was seen on three distinct\noccasions, and by three separate persons who were all personally known to\nthe above gentlemen. The house in which the following occurrences took\nplace is described as being a very old one, with unusually thick walls.\nThe lady saw her strange visitant in her bedroom. She says: \"Disliking\ncross-lights, I had got into the habit of having the blind of the back\nwindow drawn and the shutters closed at night, and of leaving the blind\nraised and the shutters opened towards the front, liking to see the trees\nand sky when I awakened. Opening my eyes now one morning, I saw right\nbefore me (this occurred in July 1873) the figure of a woman, stooping\ndown and apparently looking at me. Her head and shoulders were wrapped in\na common woollen shawl; her arms were folded, and they were also wrapped,\nas if for warmth, in the shawl. I looked at her in my horror, and dared\nnot cry out lest I might move the awful thing to speech or action. Behind\nher head I saw the window and the growing dawn, the looking-glass upon\nthe toilet-table, and the furniture in that part of the room. After what\nmay have been only seconds--of the duration of this vision I cannot\njudge--she raised herself and went backwards towards the window, stood at\nthe toilet-table, and gradually vanished. I mean she grew by degrees\ntransparent, and that through the shawl and the grey dress she wore I saw\nthe white muslin of the table-cover again, and at last saw that only in\nthe place where she had stood.\" The lady lay motionless with terror until\nthe servant came to call her. The only other occupants of the house at\nthe time were her brother and the servant, to neither of whom did she\nmake any mention of the circumstance, fearing that the former would laugh\nat her, and the latter give notice.\n\n[Footnote 3: July 1884, p. 141.]\n\nExactly a fortnight later, when sitting at breakfast, she noticed\nthat her brother seemed out of sorts, and did not eat. On asking\nhim if anything were the matter, he answered, \"I have had a horrid\nnightmare--indeed it was no nightmare: I saw it early this morning, just\nas distinctly as I see you.\" \"What?\" she asked. \"A villainous-looking\nhag,\" he replied, \"with her head and arms wrapped in a cloak, stooping\nover me, and looking like this--\" He got up, folded his arms, and put\nhimself in the exact posture of the vision. Whereupon she informed him of\nwhat she herself had seen a fortnight previously.\n\nAbout four years later, in the same month, the lady's married sister and\ntwo children were alone in the house. The eldest child, a boy of about\nfour or five years, asked for a drink, and his mother went to fetch it,\ndesiring him to remain in the dining-room until her return. Coming back\nshe met the boy pale and trembling, and on asking him why he left the\nroom, he replied, \"Who is that woman--who is that woman?\" \"Where?\" she\nasked. \"That old woman who went upstairs,\" he replied. So agitated was\nhe, that she took him by the hand and went upstairs to search, but no one\nwas to be found, though he still maintained that a woman went upstairs. A\nfriend of the family subsequently told them that a woman had been killed\nin the house many years previously, and that it was reported to be\nhaunted.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nHAUNTED HOUSES IN CONN'S HALF\n\n\nFrom a very early period a division of Ireland into two \"halves\"\nexisted. This was traditionally believed to have been made by Conn\nthe Hundred-fighter and Mogh Nuadat, in A.D. 166. The north was in\nconsequence known as Conn's Half, the south as Mogh's Half, the line of\ndivision being a series of gravel hills extending from Dublin to Galway.\nThis division we have followed, except that we have included the whole\nof the counties of West Meath and Galway in the northern portion. We had\nhoped originally to have had _four_ chapters on Haunted Houses, one for\neach of the four provinces, but, for lack of material from Connaught, we\nhave been forced to adopt the plan on which Chapters I-III are arranged.\n\nMrs. Acheson, of Co. Roscommon, sends the following: \"Emo House, Co.\nWestmeath, a very old mansion since pulled down, was purchased by my\ngrandfather for his son, my father. The latter had only been living in it\nfor a few days when knocking commenced at the hall door. Naturally he\nthought it was someone playing tricks, or endeavouring to frighten him\naway. One night he had the lobby window open directly over the door. The\nknocking commenced, and he looked out: it was a very bright night, and as\nthere was no porch he could see the door distinctly; the knocking\ncontinued, but he did not see the knocker move. Another night he sat up\nexpecting his brother, but as the latter did not come he went to bed.\nFinally the knocking became so loud and insistent that he felt sure his\nbrother must have arrived. He went downstairs and opened the door, but no\none was there. Still convinced that his brother was there and had gone\nround to the yard to put up his horse, he went out; but scarcely had he\ngone twenty yards from the door when the knocking recommenced behind his\nback. On turning round he could see no one.\"\n\n\"After this the knocking got very bad, so much so that he could not rest.\nAll this time he did not mention the strange occurrence to anyone. One\nmorning he went up through the fields between four and five o'clock. To\nhis surprise he found the herd out feeding the cattle. My father asked\nhim why he was up so early. He replied that he could not sleep. 'Why?'\nasked my father. 'You know why yourself, sir--the knocking.' He then\nfound that this man had heard it all the time, though he slept at the end\nof a long house. My father was advised to take no notice of it, for it\nwould go as it came, though at this time it was continuous and very loud;\nand so it did. The country people said it was the late resident who could\nnot rest.\"\n\n\"We had another curious and most eerie experience in this house. A former\nrector was staying the night with us, and as the evening wore on we\ncommenced to tell ghost-stories. He related some remarkable experiences,\nand as we were talking the drawing-room door suddenly opened as wide as\npossible, and then slowly closed again. It was a calm night, and at any\nrate it was a heavy double door which never flies open however strong the\nwind may be blowing. Everyone in the house was in bed, as it was after 12\no'clock, except the three persons who witnessed this, viz. myself, my\ndaughter, and the rector. The effect on the latter was most marked. He\nwas a big, strong, jovial man and a good athlete, but when he saw the\ndoor open he quivered like an aspen leaf.\"\n\nA strange story of a haunting, in which nothing was seen, but in which\nthe same noises were heard by different people, is sent by one of the\npercipients, who does not wish to have her name disclosed. She says:\n\"When staying for a time in a country house in the North of Ireland some\nyears ago I was awakened on several nights by hearing the tramp, tramp,\nof horses' hoofs. Sometimes it sounded as if they were walking on\npaving-stones, while at other times I had the impression that they were\ngoing round a large space, and as if someone was using a whip on them. I\nheard neighing, and champing of bits, and so formed the impression that\nthey were carriage horses. I did not mind it much at first, as I thought\nthe stables must be near that part of the house. After hearing these\nnoises several times I began to get curious, so one morning I made a tour\nof the place. I found that the side of the house I occupied overlooked a\nneglected garden, which was mostly used for drying clothes. I also\ndiscovered that the stables were right at the back of the house, and so\nit would be impossible for me to hear any noises in that quarter; at any\nrate there was only one farm horse left, and this was securely fastened\nup every night. Also there were no cobble-stones round the yard. I\nmentioned what I had heard to the people of the house, but as they would\ngive me no satisfactory reply I passed it over. I did not hear these\nnoises every night.\"\n\n\"One night I was startled out of my sleep by hearing a dreadful\ndisturbance in the kitchen. It sounded as if the dish-covers were being\ntaken off the wall and dashed violently on the flagged floor. At length I\ngot up and opened the door of my bedroom, and just as I did so an\nappalling crash resounded through the house. I waited to see if there was\nany light to be seen, or footstep to be heard, but nobody was stirring.\nThere was only one servant in the house, the other persons being my host,\nhis wife, and a baby, who had all retired early. Next morning I described\nthe noises in the kitchen to the servant, and she said she had often\nheard them. I then told her about the tramping of horses: she replied\nthat she herself had never heard it, but that other persons who had\noccupied my room had had experiences similar to mine. I asked her was\nthere any explanation; she said No, except that a story was told of a\ngentleman who had lived there some years ago, and was very much addicted\nto racing and gambling, and that he was shot one night in that house. For\nthe remainder of my visit I was removed to another part of the house, and\nI heard no more noises.\"\n\nA house in the North of Ireland, near that locality which is eternally\nfamous as having furnished the material for the last trial for witchcraft\nin the country, is said to be haunted, the reason being that it is built\non the site of a disused and very ancient graveyard. It is said that when\nsome repairs were being carried out nine human skulls were unearthed. It\nwould be interesting to ascertain how many houses in Ireland are\ntraditionally said to be built on such unpleasant sites, and if they all\nbear the reputation of being haunted. The present writer knows of one, in\nthe South, which is so situated (and this is supported, to a certain\nextent, by documentary evidence from the thirteenth century down) and\nwhich in consequence has an uncanny reputation. But concerning the above\nhouse it has been found almost impossible to get any information. It is\nsaid that strange noises were frequently heard there, which sometimes\nseemed as if cartloads of stones were being run down one of the gables.\nOn one occasion an inmate of the house lay dying upstairs. A friend went\nup to see the sick person, and on proceeding to pass through the bedroom\ndoor was pressed and jostled as if by some unseen person hurriedly\nleaving the room. On entering, it was found that the sick person had just\npassed away.\n\nAn account of a most unpleasant haunting is contributed by Mr. W. S.\nThompson, who vouches for the substantial accuracy of it, and also\nfurnishes the names of two men, still living, who attended the \"station.\"\nWe give it as it stands, with the comment that some of the details seem\nto have been grossly exaggerated by local raconteurs. In the year 1869 a\nghost made its presence manifest in the house of a Mr. M---- in Co.\nCavan. In the daytime it resided in the chimney, but at night it left its\nquarters and subjected the family to considerable annoyance. During the\nday they could cook nothing, as showers of soot would be sent down the\nchimney on top of every pot and pan that was placed on the fire. At night\nthe various members of the family would be dragged out of bed by the\nhair, and pulled around the house. When anyone ventured to light a lamp\nit would immediately be put out, while chairs and tables would be sent\ndancing round the room. At last matters reached such a pitch that the\nfamily found it impossible to remain any longer in the house. The night\nbefore they left Mrs. M---- was severely handled, and her boots left\nfacing the door as a gentle hint for her to be off. Before they departed\nsome of the neighbours went to the house, saw the ghost, and even\ndescribed to Mr. Thompson what they had seen. According to one man it\nappeared in the shape of a human being with a pig's head with long tusks.\nAnother described it as a horse with an elephant's head, and a headless\nman seated on its back. Finally a \"station\" was held at the house by\nseven priests, at which all the neighbours attended. The station\ncommenced after sunset, and everything in the house had to be uncovered,\nlest the evil spirit should find any resting-place. A free passage was\nleft out of the door into the street, where many people were kneeling.\nAbout five minutes after the station opened a rumbling noise was heard,\nand a black barrel rolled out with an unearthly din, though to some\ncoming up the street it appeared in the shape of a black horse with\na bull's head, and a headless man seated thereon. From this time the\nghost gave no further trouble.\n\nThe same gentleman also sends an account of a haunted shop in which\nmembers of his family had some very unpleasant experiences. \"In October\n1882 my father, William Thompson, took over the grocery and spirit\nbusiness from a Dr. S---- to whom it had been left by will. My sister was\nput in charge of the business, and she slept on the premises at night,\nbut she was not there by herself very long until she found things amiss.\nThe third night matters were made so unpleasant for her that she had to\nget up out of bed more dead than alive, and go across the street to Mrs.\nM----, the servant at the R.I.C. barrack, with whom she remained until\nthe morning. She stated that as she lay in bed, half awake and half\nasleep, she saw a man enter the room, who immediately seized her by the\nthroat and well-nigh choked her. She had only sufficient strength left to\ngasp 'Lord, save me!' when instantly the man vanished. She also said that\nshe heard noises as if every bottle and glass in the shop was smashed to\natoms, yet in the morning everything would be found intact. My brother\nwas in charge of the shop one day, as my sister had to go to Belturbet to\ndo some Christmas shopping. He expected her to return to the shop that\nnight, but as she did not do so he was preparing to go to bed about\n1 A.M., when suddenly a terrible noise was heard. The light was\nextinguished, and the tables and chairs commenced to dance about the\nfloor, and some of them struck him on the shins. Upon this he left the\nhouse, declaring that he had seen the Devil!\" Possibly this ghost had\nbeen a rabid teetotaller in the flesh, and continued to have a dislike to\nthe publican's trade after he had become discarnate. At any rate the\npresent occupants, who follow a different avocation, do not appear to be\ntroubled.\n\nGhosts are no respecters of persons or places, and take up their quarters\nwhere they are least expected. One can hardly imagine them entering a\nR.I.C. barrack, and annoying the stalwart inmates thereof. Yet more than\none tale of a haunted police-barrack has been sent to us--nay, in its\nproper place we shall relate the appearance of a deceased member of the\n\"Force,\" uniform and all! The following personal experiences are\ncontributed by an ex-R.I.C. constable, who requested that all names\nshould be suppressed. \"The barrack of which I am about to speak has now\ndisappeared, owing to the construction of a new railway line. It was a\nthree-storey house, with large airy apartments and splendid\naccommodation. This particular night I was on guard. After the constables\nhad retired to their quarters I took my palliasse downstairs to the\nday-room, and laid it on two forms alongside two six-foot tables which\nwere placed end to end in the centre of the room.\"\n\n\"As I expected a patrol in at midnight, and as another had to be sent out\nwhen it arrived, I didn't promise myself a very restful night, so I threw\nmyself on the bed, intending to read a bit, as there was a large lamp\non the table. Scarcely had I commenced to read when I felt as if I was\nbeing pushed off the bed. At first I thought I must have fallen asleep,\nso to make sure, I got up, took a few turns around the room, and then\ndeliberately lay down again and took up my book. Scarcely had I done so,\nwhen the same thing happened, and, though I resisted with all my\nstrength, I was finally landed on the floor. My bed was close to the\ntable, and the pushing came from that side, so that if anyone was playing\na trick on me they could not do so without being under the table: I\nlooked, but there was no visible presence there. I felt shaky, but\nchanged my couch to another part of the room, and had no further\nunpleasant experience. Many times after I was 'guard' in the same room,\nbut I always took care not to place my couch in that particular spot.\"\n\n\"One night, long afterwards, we were all asleep in the dormitory, when we\nwere awakened in the small hours of the morning by the guard rushing\nupstairs, dashing through the room, and jumping into a bed in the\nfarthest corner behind its occupant. There he lay gasping, unable to\nspeak for several minutes, and even then we couldn't get a coherent\naccount of what befel him. It appears he fell asleep, and suddenly awoke\nto find himself on the floor, and a body rolling over him. Several men\nvolunteered to go downstairs with him, but he absolutely refused to leave\nthe dormitory, and stayed there till morning. Nor would he even remain\ndownstairs at night without having a comrade with him. It ended in his\napplying for an exchange of stations.\"\n\n\"Another time I returned off duty at midnight, and after my comrade, a\nmarried Sergeant, had gone outside to his quarters I went to the kitchen\nto change my boots. There was a good fire on, and it looked so\ncomfortable that I remained toasting my toes on the hob, and enjoying my\npipe. The lock-up was a lean-to one-storey building off the kitchen, and\nwas divided into two cells, one opening into the kitchen, the other into\nthat cell. I was smoking away quietly when I suddenly heard inside the\nlock-up a dull, heavy thud, just like the noise a drunken man would make\nby crashing down on all-fours. I wondered who the prisoner could be, as I\ndidn't see anyone that night who seemed a likely candidate for free\nlodgings. However as I heard no other sound I decided I would tell the\nguard in order that he might look after him. As I took my candle from the\ntable I happened to glance at the lock-up, and, to my surprise, I saw\nthat the outer door was open. My curiosity being roused, I looked inside,\nto find the inner door also open. There was nothing in either cell,\nexcept the two empty plank-beds, and these were immovable as they were\nfirmly fixed to the walls. I betook myself to my bedroom much quicker\nthan I was in the habit of doing.\"\n\n\"I mentioned that this barrack was demolished owing to the construction\nof a new railway line. It was the last obstacle removed, and in the\nmeantime workmen came from all points of the compass. One day a powerful\nnavvy was brought into the barrack a total collapse from drink, and\nabsolutely helpless. After his neckwear was loosened he was carried to\nthe lock-up and laid on the plank-bed, the guard being instructed to\nvisit him periodically, lest he should smother. He was scarcely half an\nhour there--this was in the early evening--when the most unmerciful\nscreaming brought all hands to the lock-up, to find the erstwhile\nhelpless man standing on the plank-bed, and grappling with a, to us,\ninvisible foe. We took him out, and he maintained that a man had tried to\nchoke him, and was still there when we came to his relief. The strange\nthing was, that he was shivering with fright, and perfectly sober, though\nin the ordinary course of events he would not be in that condition for at\nleast seven or eight hours. The story spread like wildfire through the\ntown, but the inhabitants were not in the least surprised, and one old\nman told us that many strange things happened in that house long before\nit became a police-barrack.\"\n\nA lady, who requests that her name be suppressed, relates a strange sight\nseen by her sister in Galway. The latter's husband was stationed in that\ntown about seventeen years ago. One afternoon he was out, and she was\nlying on a sofa in the drawing-room, when suddenly from behind a screen\n(where there was no door) came a little old woman, with a small shawl\nover her head and shoulders, such as the country women used to wear. She\nhad a most diabolical expression on her face. She seized the lady by the\nhand, and said: \"I will drag you down to Hell, where I am!\" The lady\nsprang up in terror and shook her off, when the horrible creature again\ndisappeared behind the screen. The house was an old one, and many stories\nwere rife amongst the people about it, the one most to the point being\nthat the apparition of an old woman, who was supposed to have poisoned\nsomeone, used to be seen therein. Needless to say, the lady in question\nnever again sat by herself in the drawing-room.\n\nTwo stories are told about haunted houses at Drogheda, the one by A.G.\nBradley in _Notes on some Irish Superstitions_ (Drogheda, 1894), the\nother by F.G. Lee in _Sights and Shadows_ (p. 42). As both appear to be\nplaced at the same date, _i.e._ 1890, it is quite possible that they\nrefer to one and the same haunting, and we have so treated them\naccordingly. The reader, if he wishes, can test the matter for himself.\n\nThis house, which was reputed to be haunted, was let to a tailor and his\nwife by the owner at an annual rent of \u00a323. They took possession in due\ncourse, but after a very few days they became aware of the presence of a\nmost unpleasant supernatural lodger. One night, as the tailor and his\nwife were preparing to retire, they were terrified at seeing the foot of\nsome invisible person kick the candlestick off the table, and so quench\nthe candle. Although it was a very dark night, and the shutters were\nclosed, the man and his wife could see everything in the room just as\nwell as if it were the middle of the day. All at once a woman entered the\nroom, dressed in white, carrying something in her hand, which she threw\nat the tailor's wife, striking her with some violence, and then vanished.\nWhile this was taking place on the first floor, a most frightful noise\nwas going on overhead in the room where the children and their nurse were\nsleeping. The father immediately rushed upstairs, and found to his horror\nthe floor all torn up, the furniture broken, and, worst of all, the\nchildren lying senseless and naked on the bed, and having the appearance\nof having been severely beaten. As he was leaving the room with the\nchildren in his arms he suddenly remembered that he had not seen the\nnurse, so he turned back with the intention of bringing her downstairs,\nbut could find her nowhere. The girl, half-dead with fright, and very\nmuch bruised, had fled to her mother's house, where she died in a few\ndays in agony.\n\nBecause of these occurrences they were legally advised to refuse to pay\nany rent. The landlady, however, declining to release them from their\nbargain, at once claimed a quarter's rent; and when this remained for\nsome time unpaid, sued them for it before Judge Kisby. A Drogheda\nsolicitor appeared for the tenants, who, having given evidence of the\nfacts concerning the ghost in question, asked leave to support their\nsworn testimony by that of several other people. This, however, was\ndisallowed by the judge. It was admitted by the landlady that nothing on\none side or the other had been said regarding the haunting when the house\nwas let. A judgment was consequently entered for the landlady, although\nit had been shown indirectly that unquestionably the house had had the\nreputation of being haunted, and that previous tenants had been much\ninconvenienced.\n\nThis chapter may be concluded with two stories dealing with haunted\nrectories. The first, and mildest, of these is contributed by the present\nDean of St. Patrick's; it is not his own personal experience, but was\nrelated to him by a rector in Co. Monaghan, where he used to preach on\nspecial occasions. The rector and his daughters told the Dean that they\nhad often seen in that house the apparition of an old woman dressed in a\ndrab cape, while they frequently heard noises. On one evening the rector\nwas in the kitchen together with the cook and the coachman. All three\nheard noises in the pantry as if vessels were being moved. Presently they\nsaw the old woman in the drab cape come out of the pantry and move up the\nstairs. The rector attempted to follow her, but the two servants held him\ntightly by the arms, and besought him not to do so. But hearing the\nchildren, who were in bed, screaming, he broke from the grip of the\nservants and rushed upstairs. The children said that they had been\nfrightened by seeing a strange old woman coming into the room, but she\nwas now gone. The house had a single roof, and there was no way to or\nfrom the nursery except by the stairs. The rector stated that he took to\npraying that the old woman might have rest, and that it was now many\nyears since she had been seen. A very old parishioner told him that when\nshe was young she remembered having seen an old woman answering to the\nrector's description, who had lived in the house, which at that time was\nnot a rectory.\n\nThe second of these, which is decidedly more complex and mystifying,\nrefers to a rectory in Co. Donegal. It is sent as the personal experience\nof one of the percipients, who does not wish to have his name disclosed.\nHe says: \"My wife, children, and myself will have lived here four years\nnext January (1914). From the first night that we came into the house\nmost extraordinary noises have been heard. Sometimes they were inside\nthe house, and seemed as if the furniture was being disturbed, and the\nfireirons knocked about, or at other times as if a dog was running up and\ndown stairs. Sometimes they were external, and resembled tin buckets\nbeing dashed about the yard, or as if a herd of cattle was galloping up\nthe drive before the windows. These things would go on for six months,\nand then everything would be quiet for three months or so, when the\nnoises would commence again. My dogs--a fox-terrier, a boar-hound, and a\nspaniel--would make a terrible din, and would bark at something in the\nhall we could not see, backing away from it all the time.\n\n\"The only thing that was ever _seen_ was as follows: One night my\ndaughter went down to the kitchen about ten o'clock for some hot water.\nShe saw a tall man, with one arm, carrying a lamp, who walked out of the\npantry into the kitchen, and then through the kitchen wall. Another\ndaughter saw the same man walk down one evening from the loft, and go\ninto the harness-room. She told me, and I went out immediately, but could\nsee nobody. Shortly after that my wife, who is very brave, heard a knock\nat the hall door in the dusk. Naturally thinking it was some friend, she\nopened the door, and there saw standing outside the self-same man. He\nsimply looked at her, and walked through the wall into the house. She got\nsuch a shock that she could not speak for several hours, and was ill for\nsome days. That is eighteen months ago, and he has not been seen since,\nand it is six months since we heard any noises.\" Our correspondent's\nletter was written on 25th November 1913. \"An old man nearly ninety died\nlast year. He lived all his life within four hundred yards of this house,\nand used to tell me that seventy years ago the parsons came with bell,\nbook, and candle to drive the ghosts out of the house.\" Evidently they\nwere unsuccessful. In English ghost-stories it is the parson who performs\nthe exorcism successfully, while in Ireland such work is generally\nperformed by the priest. Indeed a tale was sent to us in which a ghost\nquite ignored the parson's efforts, but succumbed to the priest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nHAUNTED HOUSES IN MOGH'S HALF\n\n\nThe northern half of Ireland has not proved as prolific in stories of\nhaunted houses as the southern portion: the possible explanation of this\nis, not that the men of the north are less prone to hold, or talk about,\nsuch beliefs, but that, as regards the south half, we have had the good\nfortune to happen upon some diligent collectors of these and kindred\ntales, whose eagerness in collecting is only equalled by their kindness\nin imparting information to the compilers of this book.\n\nOn a large farm near Portarlington there once lived a Mrs. ----, a\nstrong-minded, capable woman, who managed all her affairs for herself,\ngiving her orders, and taking none from anybody. In due time she died,\nand the property passed to the next-of-kin. As soon, however, as the\nfuneral was over, the house was nightly disturbed by strange noises:\npeople downstairs would hear rushings about in the upper rooms, banging\nof doors, and the sound of heavy footsteps. The cups and saucers used to\nfall off the dresser, and all the pots and pans would rattle.\n\nThis went on for some time, till the people could stand it no longer,\nso they left the house and put in a herd and his family. The latter was\ndriven away after he had been in the house a few weeks. This happened\nto several people, until at length a man named Mr. B---- took the house.\nThe noises went on as before until some one suggested getting the priest\nin. Accordingly the priest came, and held a service in the late\nMrs. ----'s bedroom. When this was over, the door of the room was locked.\nAfter that the noises were not heard till one evening Mr. B---- came home\nfrom a fair, fortified, no doubt, with a little \"Dutch courage,\" and\ndeclared that even if the devil were in it he would go into the locked\nroom. In spite of all his family could say or do, he burst open the door,\nand entered the room, but apparently saw nothing. That night pandemonium\nreigned in the house, the chairs were hurled about, the china was broken,\nand the most weird and uncanny sounds were heard. Next day the priest\nwas sent for, the room again shut up, and nothing has happened from that\nday to this.\n\nAnother strange story comes from the same town. \"When I was on a visit to\na friend in Portarlington,\" writes a lady in the _Journal_ of the\nAmerican S.P.R.[4] \"a rather unpleasant incident occurred to me. At about\ntwo o'clock in the morning I woke up suddenly, for apparently no reason\nwhatever; however, I quite distinctly heard snoring coming from under or\nin the bed in which I was lying. It continued for about ten minutes,\nduring which time I was absolutely limp with fright. The door opened,\nand my friend entered the bedroom, saying, 'I thought you might want me,\nso I came in.' Needless to say, I hailed the happy inspiration that sent\nher to me. I then told her what I had heard; she listened to me, and then\nto comfort (!) me said, 'Oh, never mind; _it is only grandfather_! He\ndied in this room, and a snoring is heard every night at two o'clock, the\nhour at which he passed away.' Some time previously a German gentleman\nwas staying with this family. They asked him in the morning how he had\nslept, and he replied that he was disturbed by a snoring in the room, but\nhe supposed it was the cat.\"\n\n[Footnote 4: For September, 1913.]\n\nA lady, formerly resident in Queen's Co., but who now lives near Dublin,\nsends the following clear and concise account of her own personal\nexperiences in a haunted house: \"Some years ago, my father, mother,\nsister, and myself went to live in a nice but rather small house close to\nthe town of ---- in Queen's Co. We liked the house, as it was\nconveniently and pleasantly situated, and we certainly never had a\nthought of ghosts or haunted houses, nor would my father allow\nany talk about such things in his presence. But we were not long settled\nthere when we were disturbed by the opening of the parlour door every\nnight regularly at the hour of eleven o'clock. My father and mother used\nto retire to their room about ten o'clock, while my sister and I used to\nsit up reading. We always declared that we would retire before the door\nopened, but we generally got so interested in our books that we would\nforget until we would hear the handle of the door turn, and see the door\nflung open. We tried in every way to account for this, but we could find\nno explanation, and there was no possibility of any human agent being\nat work.\n\n\"Some time after, light was thrown on the subject. We had visitors\nstaying with us, and in order to make room for them, my sister was asked\nto sleep in the parlour. She consented without a thought of ghosts,\nand went to sleep quite happily; but during the night she was awakened by\nsome one opening the door, walking across the room, and disturbing the\nfireirons. She, supposing it to be the servant, called her by name, but\ngot no answer: then the person seemed to come away from the fireplace,\nand walk out of the room. There was a fire in the grate, but though she\nheard the footsteps, she could see no one.\n\n\"The next thing was, that I was coming downstairs, and as I glanced\ntowards the hall door I saw standing by it a man in a grey suit. I went\nto my father and told him. He asked in surprise who let him in, as the\nservant was out, and he himself had already locked, bolted, and chained\nthe door an hour previously. None of us had let him in, and when my\nfather went out to the hall the man had disappeared, and the door was as\nhe had left it.\n\n\"Some little time after, I had a visit from a lady who knew the place\nwell, and in the course of conversation she said:\n\n\"'This is the house poor Mr. ---- used to live in.'\n\n\"'Who is Mr. ----?' I asked.\n\n\"'Did you never hear of him?' she replied. 'He was a minister who used to\nlive in this house quite alone, and was murdered in this very parlour.\nHis landlord used to visit him sometimes, and one night he was seen\ncoming in about eleven o'clock, and was seen again leaving about five\no'clock in the morning. When Mr. ---- did not come out as usual, the door\nwas forced open, and he was found lying dead in this room by the fender,\nwith his head battered in with the poker.'\n\n\"We left the house soon after,\" adds our informant.\n\nThe following weird incidents occurred, apparently in the Co. Kilkenny,\nto a Miss K. B., during two visits paid by her to Ireland in 1880 and\n1881. The house in which she experienced the following was really an old\nbarrack, long disused, very old-fashioned, and surrounded with a high\nwall: it was said that it had been built during the time of Cromwell\nas a stronghold for his men. The only inhabitants of this were Captain\nC---- (a retired officer in charge of the place), Mrs. C----, three\ndaughters, and two servants. They occupied the central part of the\nbuilding, the mess-room being their drawing-room. Miss K. B.'s bedroom\nwas very lofty, and adjoined two others which were occupied by the three\ndaughters, E., G., and L.\n\n\"The first recollection I have of anything strange,\" writes Miss B., \"was\nthat each night I was awakened about three o'clock by a tremendous noise,\napparently in the next suite of rooms, which was empty, and it sounded as\nif some huge iron boxes and other heavy things were being thrown about\nwith great force. This continued for about half an hour, when in the room\nunderneath (the kitchen) I heard the fire being violently poked and raked\nfor several minutes, and this was immediately followed by a most terrible\nand distressing cough of a man, very loud and violent. It seemed as if\nthe exertion had brought on a paroxysm which he could not stop. In large\nhouses in Co. Kilkenny the fires are not lighted every day, owing to the\nslow-burning property of the coal, and it is only necessary to rake it up\nevery night about eleven o'clock, and in the morning it is still bright\nand clear. Consequently I wondered why it was necessary for Captain\nC---- to get up in the middle of the night to stir it so violently.\"\n\nA few days later Miss B. said to E. C.: \"I hear such strange noises every\nnight--are there any people in the adjoining part of the building?\" She\nturned very pale, and looking earnestly at Miss B., said, \"Oh K., I am so\nsorry you heard. I hoped no one but myself had heard it. I could have\ngiven worlds to have spoken to you last night, but dared not move or\nspeak.\" K. B. laughed at her for being so superstitious, but E. declared\nthat the place was haunted, and told her of a number of weird things that\nhad been seen and heard.\n\nIn the following year, 1881, Miss K. B. paid another visit to the\nbarrack. This time there were two other visitors there--a colonel and his\nwife. They occupied Miss B.'s former room, while to her was allotted a\nhuge bedroom on the top of the house, with a long corridor leading to it;\nopposite to this was another large room, which was occupied by the girls.\n\nHer strange experiences commenced again. \"One morning, about four\no'clock, I was awakened by a very noisy martial footstep ascending the\nstairs, and then marching quickly up and down the corridor outside\nmy room. Then suddenly the most violent coughing took place that I ever\nheard, which continued for some time, while the quick, heavy step\ncontinued its march. At last the footsteps faded away in the distance,\nand I then recalled to mind the same coughing after exertion last year.\"\nIn the morning, at breakfast, she asked both Captain C---- and the\ncolonel had they been walking about, but both denied, and also said they\nhad no cough. The family looked very uncomfortable, and afterwards E.\ncame up with tears in her eyes, and said, \"Oh K., please don't say\nanything more about that dreadful coughing; we all hear it often,\nespecially when anything terrible is about to happen.\"\n\nSome nights later the C----s gave a dance. When the guests had departed,\nMiss B. went to her bedroom. \"The moon was shining so beautifully that I\nwas able to read my Bible by its light, and had left the Bible open on\nthe window-sill, which was a very high one, and on which I sat to read,\nhaving had to climb the washstand to reach it. I went to bed, and fell\nasleep, but was not long so when I was suddenly awakened by the strange\nfeeling that some one was in the room. I opened my eyes, and turned\naround, and saw on the window-sill in the moonlight a long, very thin,\nvery dark figure bending over the Bible, and apparently earnestly\nscanning the page. As if my movement disturbed the figure, it suddenly\ndarted up, jumped off the window-ledge on to the washstand, then to the\nground, and flitted quietly across the room to the table where my\njewellery was.\" That was the last she saw of it. She thought it was some\none trying to steal her jewellery, so waited till morning, but nothing\nwas missing. In the morning she described to one of the daughters, G.,\nwhat she had seen, and the latter told her that something always happened\nwhen that appeared. Miss K. B. adds that nothing did happen. Later on she\nwas told that a colonel had cut his throat in that very room.\n\nAnother military station, Charles Fort, near Kinsale, has long had the\nreputation of being haunted. An account of this was sent to the _Wide\nWorld Magazine_ (Jan. 1908), by Major H. L. Ruck Keene, D.S.O.; he\nstates that he took it from a manuscript written by a Captain Marvell\nHull about the year 1880. Further information on the subject of the\nhaunting is to be found in Dr. Craig's _Real Pictures of Clerical Life in\nIreland_.\n\nCharles Fort was erected in 1667 by the Duke of Ormonde. It is said to be\nhaunted by a ghost known as the \"White Lady,\" and the traditional account\nof the reason for this haunting is briefly as follows: Shortly after the\nerection of the fort, a Colonel Warrender, a severe disciplinarian, was\nappointed its governor. He had a daughter, who bore the quaint Christian\nname of \"Wilful\"; she became engaged to a Sir Trevor Ashurst, and\nsubsequently married him. On the evening of their wedding-day the bride\nand bridegroom were walking on the battlements, when she espied some\nflowers growing on the rocks beneath. She expressed a wish for them, and\na sentry posted close by volunteered to climb down for them, provided Sir\nTrevor took his place during his absence. He assented, and took the\nsoldier's coat and musket while he went in search of a rope. Having\nobtained one, he commenced his descent; but the task proving longer than\nhe expected, Sir Trevor fell asleep. Meantime the governor visited the\nsentries, as was his custom, and in the course of his rounds came to\nwhere Sir Trevor was asleep. He challenged him, and on receiving no\nanswer perceived that he was asleep, whereupon he drew a pistol and shot\nhim through the heart. The body was brought in, and it was only then the\ngovernor realised what had happened. The bride, who appears to have gone\nindoors before the tragedy occurred, then learned the fate that befell\nher husband, and in her distraction, rushed from the house and flung\nherself over the battlements. In despair at the double tragedy, her\nfather shot himself during the night.\n\nThe above is from Dr. Craig's book already alluded to. In the _Wide World\nMagazine_ the legend differs slightly in details. According to this the\ngovernor's name was Browne, and it was his own son, not his son-in-law,\nthat he shot; while the incident is said to have occurred about a hundred\nand fifty years ago.\n\nThe \"White Lady\" is the ghost of the young bride. Let us see what\naccounts there are of her appearance. A good many years ago Fort-Major\nBlack, who had served in the Peninsular War, gave his own personal\nexperience to Dr. Craig. He stated that he had gone to the hall door one\nsummer evening, and saw a lady entering the door and going up the stairs.\nAt first he thought she was an officer's wife, but as he looked, he\nobserved she was dressed in white, and in a very old-fashioned style.\nImpelled by curiosity, he hastened upstairs after her, and followed her\nclosely into one of the rooms, but on entering it he could not find the\nslightest trace of anyone there. On another occasion he stated that two\nsergeants were packing some cast stores. One of them had his little\ndaughter with him, and the child suddenly exclaimed, \"Who is that white\nlady who is bending over the banisters, and looking down at us?\" The two\nmen looked up, but could see nothing, but the child insisted that she had\nseen a lady in white looking down and smiling at her.\n\nOn another occasion a staff officer, a married man, was residing in the\n\"Governor's House.\" One night as the nurse lay awake--she and the\nchildren were in a room which opened into what was known as the White\nLady's apartment--she suddenly saw a lady clothed in white glide to the\nbedside of the youngest child, and after a little place her hand upon its\nwrist. At this the child started in its sleep, and cried out, \"Oh! take\nthat cold hand from my wrist!\" the next moment the lady disappeared.\n\nOne night, about the year 1880, Captain Marvell Hull and Lieutenant\nHartland were going to the rooms occupied by the former officer. As they\nreached a small landing they saw distinctly in front of them a woman in a\nwhite dress. As they stood there in awestruck silence she turned and\nlooked towards them, showing a face beautiful enough, but colourless as a\ncorpse, and then passed on through a locked door.\n\nBut it appears that this presence did not always manifest itself in as\nharmless a manner. Some years ago Surgeon L---- was quartered at the\nfort. One day he had been out snipe-shooting, and as he entered the fort\nthe mess-bugle rang out. He hastened to his rooms to dress, but as he\nfailed to put in an appearance at mess, one of the officers went in\nsearch of him, and found him lying senseless on the floor. When he\nrecovered consciousness he related his experience. He said he had stooped\ndown for the key of his door, which he had placed for safety under the\nmat; when in this position he felt himself violently dragged across the\nhall, and flung down a flight of steps. With this agrees somewhat the\nexperience of a Captain Jarves, as related by him to Captain Marvell\nHull. Attracted by a strange rattling noise in his bedroom, he\nendeavoured to open the door of it, but found it seemingly locked.\nSuspecting a hoax, he called out, whereupon a gust of wind passed him,\nand some unseen power flung him down the stairs, and laid him senseless\nat the bottom.\n\nNear a seaside town in the south of Ireland a group of small cottages was\nbuilt by an old lady, in one of which she lived, while she let the others\nto her relatives. In process of time all the occupants died, the cottages\nfell into ruin, and were all pulled down (except the one in which the old\nlady had lived), the materials being used by a farmer to build a large\nhouse which he hoped to let to summer visitors. It was shortly afterwards\ntaken for three years by a gentleman for his family. It should be noted\nthat the house had very bare surroundings; there were no trees near, or\nouthouses where people could be concealed. Soon after the family came to\nthe house they began to hear raps all over it, on doors, windows, and\nwalls; these raps varied in nature, sometimes being like a sledgehammer,\nloud and dying away, and sometimes quick and sharp, two or three or five\nin succession; and all heard them. One morning about 4 A.M., the mother\nheard very loud knocking on the bedroom door; thinking it was the servant\nwanting to go to early mass, she said, \"Come in,\" but the knocking\ncontinued till the father was awakened by it; he got up, searched the\nhouse, but could find no one. The servant's door was slightly open, and\nhe saw that she was sound asleep. That morning a telegram came announcing\nthe death of a beloved uncle just about the hour of the knocking. Some\ntime previous to this the mother was in the kitchen, when a loud\nexplosion took place beside her, startling her very much, but no cause\nfor it could be found, nor were any traces left. This coincided with the\ndeath of an aunt, wife to the uncle who died later.\n\nOne night the mother went to her bedroom. The blind was drawn, and the\nshutters closed, when suddenly a great crash came, as if a branch was\nthrown at the window, and there was a sound of broken glass. She opened\nthe shutters with the expectation of finding the window smashed, but\nthere was not even a crack in it. She entered the room next day at one\no'clock, and the same crash took place, being heard by all in the house:\nshe went in at 10 A.M. on another day, and the same thing happened,\nafter which she refused to enter that room again.\n\nAnother night, after 11 P.M., the servant was washing up in the kitchen,\nwhen heavy footsteps were heard by the father and mother going upstairs,\nand across a lobby to the servant's room; the father searched the house,\nbut could find no one. After that footsteps used to be heard regularly at\nthat hour, though no one could ever be seen walking about.\n\nThe two elder sisters slept together, and used to see flames shooting up\nall over the floor, though there was no smell or heat; this used to be\nseen two or three nights at a time, chiefly in the one room. The first\ntime the girls saw this one of them got up and went to her father in\nalarm, naturally thinking the room underneath must be on fire.\n\nThe two boys were moved to the haunted room [which one?], where they\nslept in one large bed with its head near the chimneypiece. The elder\nboy, aged about thirteen, put his watch on the mantelpiece, awoke about\n2 A.M., and wishing to ascertain the time, put his hand up for his watch;\nhe then felt a deathly cold hand laid on his. For the rest of that night\nthe two boys were terrified by noises, apparently caused by two people\nrushing about the room fighting and knocking against the bed. About 6\nA.M. they went to their father, almost in hysterics from terror, and\nrefused to sleep there again. The eldest sister, not being nervous, was\nthen given that room; she was, however, so disturbed by these noises that\nshe begged her father to let her leave it, but having no other room to\ngive her, he persuaded her to stay there, and at length she got\naccustomed to the noise, and could sleep in spite of it. Finally the\nfamily left the house before their time was up.[5]\n\n[Footnote 5: _Journal of American S.P.R._ for September 1913.]\n\nMr. T.J. Westropp, to whom we are indebted for so much material, sends a\ntale which used to be related by a relative of his, the Rev. Thomas\nWestropp, concerning experiences in a house not very far from the city of\nLimerick. When the latter was appointed to a certain parish he had some\ndifficulty in finding a suitable house, but finally fixed on one which\nhad been untenanted for many years, but had nevertheless been kept aired\nand in good repair, as a caretaker who lived close by used to come and\nlook after it every day. The first night that the family settled there,\nas the clergyman was going upstairs he heard a footstep and the rustle of\na dress, and as he stood aside a lady passed him, entered a door facing\nthe stairs, and closed it after her. It was only then he realised that\nher dress was very old-fashioned, and that he had not been able to enter\nthat particular room. Next day he got assistance from a carpenter, who,\nwith another man, forced open the door. A mat of cobwebs fell as they did\nso, and the floor and windows were thick with dust. The men went across\nthe room, and as the clergyman followed them he saw a small white bird\nflying round the ceiling; at his exclamation the men looked back and also\nsaw it. It swooped, flew out of the door, and they did not see it again.\nAfter that the family were alarmed by hearing noises under the floor of\nthat room every night. At length the clergyman had the boards taken up,\nand the skeleton of a child was found underneath. So old did the remains\nappear that the coroner did not deem it necessary to hold an inquest on\nthem, so the rector buried them in the churchyard. Strange noises\ncontinued, as if some one were trying to force up the boards from\nunderneath. Also a heavy ball was heard rolling down the stairs and\nstriking against the study door. One night the two girls woke up\nscreaming, and on the nurse running up to them, the elder said she had\nseen a great black dog with fiery eyes resting its paws on her bed. Her\nfather ordered the servants to sit constantly with them in the evenings,\nbut, notwithstanding the presence of two women in the nursery, the same\nthing occurred. The younger daughter was so scared that she never quite\nrecovered. The family left the house immediately.\n\nThe same correspondent says: \"An old ruined house in the hills of east\nCo. Clare enjoyed the reputation of being 'desperately haunted' from, at\nany rate, 1865 down to its dismantling. I will merely give the\nexperiences of my own relations, as told by them to me. My mother told\nhow one night she and my father heard creaking and grating, as if a door\nwere being forced open. The sound came from a passage in which was a door\nnailed up and clamped with iron bands. A heavy footstep came down\nthe passage, and stopped at the bedroom door for a moment; no sound was\nheard, and then the 'thing' came through the room to the foot of the bed.\nIt moved round the bed, they not daring to stir. The horrible unseen\nvisitant stopped, and they _felt_ it watching them. At last it moved\naway, they heard it going up the passage, the door crashed, and all was\nsilence. Lighting a candle, my father examined the room, and found the\ndoor locked; he then went along the passage, but not a sound was to be\nheard anywhere.\n\n\"Strange noises like footsteps, sobbing, whispering, grim laughter, and\nshrieks were often heard about the house. On one occasion my eldest\nsister and a girl cousin drove over to see the family and stayed the\nnight. They and my two younger sisters were all crowded into a huge,\nold-fashioned bed, and carefully drew and tucked in the curtains all\nround. My eldest sister awoke feeling a cold wind blowing on her face,\nand putting out her hand found the curtains drawn back and, as they\nsubsequently discovered, wedged between the bed and the wall. She reached\nfor the match-box, and was about to light the candle when a horrible\nmocking laugh rang out close to the bed, which awakened the other girls.\nBeing always a plucky woman, though then badly scared, she struck a\nmatch, and searched the room, but nothing was to be seen. The closed room\nwas said to have been deserted after a murder, and its floor was supposed\nto be stained with blood which no human power could wash out.\"\n\nAnother house in Co. Clare, nearer the estuary of the Shannon, which was\nformerly the residence of the D---- family, but is now pulled down, had\nsome extraordinary tales told about it in which facts (if we may use the\nword) were well supplemented by legend. To commence with the former.\nA lady writes: \"My father and old Mr. D---- were first cousins. Richard\nD---- asked my father would he come and sit up with him one night, in\norder to see what might be seen. Both were particularly sober men. The\nannoyances in the house were becoming unbearable. Mrs. D----'s work-box\nused to be thrown down, the table-cloth would be whisked off the table,\nthe fender and fireirons would be hurled about the room, and other\nsimilar things would happen. Mr. D---- and my father went up to one of\nthe bedrooms, where a big fire was made up. They searched every part of\nthe room carefully, but nothing uncanny was to be seen or found. They\nthen placed two candles and a brace of pistols on a small table between\nthem, and waited. Nothing happened for some time, till all of a sudden a\nlarge black dog walked out from under the bed. Both men fired, and the\ndog disappeared. That is all! The family had to leave the house.\"\n\nNow to the blending of fact with fiction, of which we have already\nspoken: the intelligent reader can decide in his own mind which is which.\nIt was said that black magic had been practised in this house at one\ntime, and that in consequence terrible and weird occurrences were quite\nthe order of the day there. When being cooked, the hens used to scream\nand the mutton used to bleat in the pot. Black dogs were seen frequently.\nThe beds used to be lifted up, and the occupants thereof used to be\nbeaten black and blue, by invisible hands. One particularly ghoulish tale\nwas told. It was said that a monk (!) was in love with one of the\ndaughters of the house, who was an exceedingly fat girl. She died\nunmarried, and was buried in the family vault. Some time later the vault\nwas again opened for an interment, and those who entered it found that\nMiss D----'s coffin had been disturbed, and the lid loosened. They\nthen saw that all the fat around her heart had been scooped away.\n\nApropos of ineradicable blood on a floor, which is a not infrequent item\nin stories of haunted houses, it is said that a manifestation of this\nnature forms the haunting in a farmhouse in Co. Limerick. According to\nour informants, a light must be kept burning in this house all night; if\nby any chance it is forgotten, or becomes quenched, in the morning the\nfloor is covered with blood. The story is evidently much older than the\nhouse, but no traditional explanation is given.\n\nTwo stories of haunted schools have been sent to us, both on very good\nauthority; these establishments lie within the geographical limits of\nthis chapter, but for obvious reasons, we cannot indicate their locality\nmore precisely, though the names of both are known to us. The first of\nthese was told to our correspondent by the boy Brown, who was in the\nroom, but did _not_ see the ghost.\n\nWhen Brown was about fifteen he was sent to ---- School. His brother told\nhim not to be frightened at anything he might see or hear, as the boys\nwere sure to play tricks on all new-comers. He was put to sleep in a room\nwith another new arrival, a boy named Smith, from England. In the middle\nof the night Brown was roused from his sleep by Smith crying out in great\nalarm, and asking who was in the room. Brown, who was very angry at being\nwaked up, told him not to be a fool--that there was no one there. The\nsecond night Smith roused him again, this time in greater alarm than the\nfirst night. He said he saw a man in cap and gown come into the room with\na lamp, and then pass right through the wall. Smith got out of his bed,\nand fell on his knees beside Brown, beseeching him not to go to sleep. At\nfirst Brown thought it was all done to frighten him, but he then saw that\nSmith was in a state of abject terror. Next morning they spoke of the\noccurrence, and the report reached the ears of the Head Master, who sent\nfor the two boys. Smith refused to spend another night in the room. Brown\nsaid he had seen or heard nothing, and was quite willing to sleep there\nif another fellow would sleep with him, but he would not care to remain\nthere alone. The Head Master then asked for volunteers from the class of\nelder boys, but not one of them would sleep in the room. It had always\nbeen looked upon as \"haunted,\" but the Master thought that by putting in\nnew boys who had not heard the story they would sleep there all right.\n\nSome years after, Brown revisited the place, and found that another\nattempt had been made to occupy the room. A new Head Master who did not\nknow its history, thought it a pity to have the room idle, and put a\nteacher, also new to the school, in possession. When this teacher came\ndown the first morning, he asked who had come into his room during the\nnight. He stated that a man in cap and gown, having books under his arm\nand a lamp in his hand, came in, sat down at a table, and began to read.\nHe knew that he was not one of the masters, and did not recognise him as\none of the boys. The room had to be abandoned. The tradition is that many\nyears ago a master was murdered in that room by one of the students. The\nfew boys who ever had the courage to persist in sleeping in the room said\nif they stayed more than two or three nights that the furniture was\nmoved, and they heard violent noises.\n\nThe second story was sent to us by the percipient herself, and is\ntherefore a firsthand experience. Considering that she was only a\nschoolgirl at the time, it must be admitted that she made a most plucky\nattempt to run the ghost to earth.\n\n\"A good many years ago, when I first went to school, I did not believe in\nghosts, but I then had an experience which caused me to alter my opinion.\nI was ordered with two other girls to sleep in a small top room at the\nback of the house which overlooked a garden which contained ancient\napple-trees.\n\n\"Suddenly in the dead of night I was awakened out of my sleep by the\nsound of heavy footsteps, as of a man wearing big boots unlaced, pacing\nceaselessly up and down a long corridor which I knew was plainly visible\nfrom the landing outside my door, as there was a large window at the\nfarther end of it, and there was sufficient moonlight to enable one to\nsee its full length. After listening for about twenty minutes, my\ncuriosity was aroused, so I got up and stood on the landing. The\nfootsteps still continued, but I could see nothing, although the sounds\nactually reached the foot of the flight of stairs which led from the\ncorridor to the landing on which I was standing. Suddenly the footfall\nceased, pausing at my end of the corridor, and I then considered it was\nhigh time for me to retire, which I accordingly did, carefully closing\nthe door behind me.\n\n\"To my horror the footsteps ascended the stairs, and the bedroom door was\nviolently dashed back against a washing-stand, beside which was a bed;\nthe contents of the ewer were spilled over the occupant, and the steps\nadvanced a few paces into the room in my direction. A cold perspiration\nbroke out all over me; I cannot describe the sensation. It was not actual\nfear--it was more than that--I felt I had come into contact with the\nUnknown.\n\n\"What was about to happen? All I could do was to speak; I cried out, \"Who\nare you? What do you want?\" Suddenly the footsteps ceased; I felt\nrelieved, and lay awake till morning, but no further sound reached my\nears. How or when my ghostly visitant disappeared I never knew; suffice\nit to say, my story was no nightmare, but an actual fact, of which there\nwas found sufficient proof in the morning; the floor was still saturated\nwith water, the door, which we always carefully closed at night, was wide\nopen, and last, but not least, the occupant of the wet bed had heard all\nthat had happened, but feared to speak, and lay awake till morning.\n\n\"Naturally, we related our weird experience to our schoolmates, and it\nwas only then I learned from one of the elder girls that this ghost had\nmanifested itself for many years in a similar fashion to the inhabitants\nof that room. It was supposed to be the spirit of a man who, long years\nbefore, had occupied this apartment (the house was then a private\nresidence), and had committed suicide by hanging himself from an old\napple tree opposite the window. Needless to say, the story was hushed up,\nand we were sharply spoken to, and warned not to mention the occurrence\nagain.\n\n\"Some years afterwards a friend, who happened at the time to be a boarder\nat this very school, came to spend a week-end with me. She related an\nexactly similar incident which occurred a few nights previous to her\nvisit. My experience was quite unknown to her.\"\n\nThe following account of strange happenings at his glebe-house has been\nsent by the rector of a parish in the diocese of Cashel: \"Shortly after\nmy wife and I came to live here, some ten years ago, the servants\ncomplained of hearing strange noises in the top storey of the Rectory\nwhere they sleep. One girl ran away the day after she arrived, declaring\nthat the house was haunted, and that nothing would induce her to sleep\nanother night in it. So often had my wife to change servants on this\naccount that at last I had to speak to the parish priest, as I suspected\nthat the idea of 'ghosts' might have been suggested to the maids by\nneighbours who might have some interest in getting rid of them. I\nunderstand that my friend the parish priest spoke very forcibly from the\naltar on the subject of spirits, saying that the only spirits he believed\never did any harm to anyone were ----, mentioning a well-known brand of\nthe wine of the country. Whether this priestly admonition was the cause\nor not, for some time we heard no more tales of ghostly manifestations.\n\n\"After a while, however, my wife and I began to hear a noise which, while\nin no sense alarming, has proved to be both remarkable and inexplicable.\nIf we happen to be sitting in the dining-room after dinner, sometimes we\nhear what sounds like the noise of a heavy coach rumbling up to the hall\ndoor. We have both heard this noise hundreds of times between eight P.M.\nand midnight. Sometimes we hear it several times the same night, and then\nperhaps we won't hear it again for several months. We hear it best on\ncalm nights, and as we are nearly a quarter of a mile from the high\nroad, it is difficult to account for, especially as the noise appears to\nbe quite close to us--I mean not farther away than the hall-door. I may\nmention that an Englishman was staying with us a few years ago. As we\nwere sitting in the dining-room one night after dinner he said, 'A\ncarriage has just driven up to the door'; but we knew it was only the\n'phantom coach,' for we also heard it. Only once do I remember hearing it\nwhile sitting in the drawing-room. So much for the 'sound' of the\n'phantom coach,' but now I must tell you what I _saw_ with my own eyes as\nclearly as I now see the paper on which I am writing. Some years ago in\nthe middle of the summer, on a scorching hot day, I was out cutting\nsome hay opposite the hall door just by the tennis court. It was between\ntwelve and one o'clock. I remember the time distinctly, as my man had\ngone to his dinner shortly before. The spot on which I was commanded\na view of the avenue from the entrance gate for about four hundred yards.\nI happened to look up from my occupation--for scything is no easy\nwork--and I saw what I took to be a somewhat high dogcart, in which two\npeople were seated, turning in at the avenue gate. As I had my coat and\nwaistcoat off, and was not in a state to receive visitors, I got behind a\nnewly-made hay-cock and watched the vehicle until it came to a bend in\nthe avenue where there is a clump of trees which obscured it from my\nview. As it did not, however, reappear, I concluded that the occupants\nhad either stopped for some reason or had taken by mistake a cart-way\nleading to the back gate into the garden. Hastily putting on my coat, I\nwent down to the bend in the avenue, but to my surprise there was nothing\nto be seen.\n\n\"Returning to the Rectory, I met my housekeeper, who has been with me for\nnearly twenty years, and I told her what I had seen. She then told me\nthat about a month before, while I was away from home, my man had one day\ngone with the trap to the station. She saw, just as I did, a trap coming\nup the avenue until it was lost to sight owing to the intervention of the\nclump of trees. As it did not come on, she went down to the bend, but\nthere was no trap to be seen. When the man came in some half-hour after,\nmy housekeeper asked him if he had come half-way up the avenue and turned\nback, but he said he had only that minute come straight from the station.\nMy housekeeper said she did not like to tell me about it before, as she\nthought I 'would have laughed at her.' Whether the 'spectral gig' which I\nsaw and the 'phantom coach' which my wife and I have often heard are one\nand the same I know not, but I do know that what I saw in the full blaze\nof the summer sun was not inspired by a dose of the spirits referred to\nby my friend the parish priest.\n\n\"Some time during the winter of 1912, I was in the motor-house one dark\nevening at about 6 P.M. I was working at the engine, and as the car was\n'nose in' first, I was, of course, at the farthest point from the door.\nI had sent my man down to the village with a message. He was gone about\nten minutes when I heard heavy footsteps enter the yard and come over to\nthe motor-house. I 'felt' that there was some one in the house quite\nclose to me, and I said, 'Hullo, ----, what brought you back so soon,' as\nI knew he could not have been to the village and back. As I got no reply,\nI took up my electric lamp and went to the back of the motor to see who\nwas there, but there was no one to be seen, and although I searched the\nyard with my lamp, I could discover no one. About a week later I heard\nthe footsteps again under almost identical conditions, but I searched\nwith the same futile result.\n\n\"Before I stop, I must tell you about a curious 'presentiment' which\nhappened with regard to a man I got from the Queen's County. He arrived\non a Saturday evening, and on the following Monday morning I put him to\nsweep the avenue. He was at his work when I went out in the motor car at\nabout 10:30 A.M. Shortly after I left he left his wheel-barrow and tools\non the avenue (just at the point where I saw the 'spectral gig'\ndisappear) and, coming up to the Rectory, he told my housekeeper in a\ngreat state of agitation that he was quite sure that his brother, with\nwhom he had always lived, was dead. He said he must return home at once.\nMy housekeeper advised him to wait until I returned, but he changed his\nclothes and packed his box, saying he must catch the next train. Just\nbefore I returned home at 12 o'clock, a telegram came saying his brother\nhad died suddenly that morning, and that he was to return at once. On my\nreturn I found him almost in a state of collapse. He left by the next\ntrain, and I never heard of him again.\"\n\nK---- Castle is a handsome blending of ancient castle and modern\ndwelling-house, picturesquely situated among trees, while the steep glen\nmentioned below runs close beside it. It has the reputation of being\nhaunted, but, as usual, it is difficult to get information. One\ngentleman, to whom we wrote, stated that he never saw or heard anything\nworse than a bat. On the other hand, a lady who resided there a good many\nyears ago, gives the following account of her extraordinary experiences\ntherein:\n\nDEAR MR. SEYMOUR,\n\nI enclose some account of our experiences in K---- Castle. It would be\nbetter not to mention names, as the people occupying it have told me they\nare afraid of their servants hearing anything, and consequently giving\nnotice. They themselves hear voices often, but, like me, they do not\nmind. When first we went there we heard people talking, but on looking\neverywhere we could find no one. Then on some nights we heard fighting in\nthe glen beside the house. We could hear voices raised in anger, and the\nclash of steel: no person would venture there after dusk.\n\nOne night I was sitting talking with my governess, I got up, said\ngood-night, and opened the door, which was on the top of the back\nstaircase. As I did so, I _heard_ some one (a woman) come slowly\nupstairs, walk past us to a window at the end of the landing, and then\nwith a shriek fall heavily. As she passed it was bitterly cold, and I\ndrew back into the room, but did not say anything, as it might frighten\nthe governess. She asked me what was the matter, as I looked so white.\nWithout answering, I pushed her into her room, and then searched the\nhouse, but with no results.\n\nAnother night I was sleeping with my little girl. I awoke, and saw a girl\nwith long, fair hair standing at the fireplace, one hand at her side, the\nother on the chimney-piece. Thinking at first it was my little girl, I\nfelt on the pillow to see if she were gone, but she was fast asleep.\nThere was no fire or light of any kind in the room.\n\nSome time afterwards a friend was sleeping there, and she told me that\nshe was pushed out of bed the whole night. Two gentlemen to whom I had\nmentioned this came over, thinking they would find out the cause. In the\nmorning when they came down they asked for the carriage to take them to\nthe next train, but would not tell what they had heard or seen.\nAnother person who came to visit her sister, who was looking after the\nhouse before we went in, slept in this room, and in the morning said she\nmust go back that day. She also would give no information.\n\nOn walking down the corridor, I have heard a door open, a footstep cross\nbefore me, and go into another room, _both_ doors being closed at the\ntime. An old cook I had told me that when she went into the hall in the\nmorning, a gentleman would come down the front stairs, take a plumed hat\noff the stand, and vanish _through_ the hall door. This she saw nearly\nevery morning. She also said that a girl often came into her bedroom, and\nput her hand on her (the cook's) face; and when she would push her away\nshe would hear a girl's voice say, \"Oh don't!\" three times. I have often\nheard voices in the drawing-room, which decidedly sounded as if an old\ngentleman and a girl were talking. Noises like furniture being moved were\nfrequently heard at night, and strangers staying with us have often asked\nwhy the servants turned out the rooms underneath them at such an unusual\nhour. The front-door bell sometimes rang, and I have gone down, but found\nno one.\n\nYours very sincerely,\nF.T.\n\n\"Kilman\" Castle, in the heart of Ireland--the name is obviously a\npseudonym--has been described as perhaps the worst haunted mansion in the\nBritish Isles. That it deserves this doubtful recommendation, we cannot\nsay; but at all events the ordinary reader will be prepared to admit that\nit contains sufficient \"ghosts\" to satisfy the most greedy ghost-hunter.\nA couple of months ago the present writer paid a visit to this castle,\nand was shown all over it one morning by the mistress of the house, who,\nunder the _nom de plume_ of \"Andrew Merry\" has published novels dealing\nwith Irish life, and has also contributed articles on the ghostly\nphenomena of her house to the _Occult Review_ (Dec. 1908 and Jan. 1909).\n\nThe place itself is a grim, grey, bare building. The central portion, in\nwhich is the entrance-hall, is a square castle of the usual type; it is\nbuilt on a rock, and a slight batter from base to summit gives an added\nappearance of strength and solidity. On either side of the castle are\nmore modern wings, one of which terminates in what is known as the\n\"Priest's House.\"\n\nNow to the ghosts. The top storey of the central tower is a large,\nwell-lighted apartment, called the \"Chapel,\" having evidently served that\npurpose in times past. At one end is what is said to be an _oubliette_,\nnow almost filled up. Occasionally in the evenings, people walking along\nthe roads or in the fields see the windows of this chapel lighted up for\na few seconds as if many lamps were suddenly brought into it. This is\ncertainly _not_ due to servants; from our experience we can testify that\nit is the last place on earth that a domestic would enter after dark. It\nis also said that a treasure is buried somewhere in or around the castle.\nThe legend runs that an ancestor was about to be taken to Dublin on a\ncharge of rebellion, and, fearing he would never return, made the best of\nthe time left to him by burying somewhere a crock full of gold and\njewels. Contrary to expectation, he _did_ return; but his long\nconfinement had turned his brain, and he could never remember the spot\nwhere he had deposited his treasure years before. Some time ago a lady, a\nMiss B., who was decidedly psychic, was invited to Kilman Castle in the\nhope that she would be able to locate the whereabouts of this treasure.\nIn this respect she failed, unfortunately, but gave, nevertheless, a\ncurious example of her power. As she walked through the hall with her\nhostess, she suddenly laid her hand upon the bare stone wall, and\nremarked, \"There is something uncanny here, but I don't know what it is.\"\nIn that very spot, some time previously, two skeletons had been\ndiscovered walled up.\n\nThe sequel to this is curious. Some time after, Miss B. was either trying\nautomatic writing, or else was at a s\u00e9ance (we forget which), when a\nmessage came to her from the Unseen, stating that the treasure at Kilman\nCastle was concealed in the chapel under the tessellated pavement near\nthe altar. But this spirit was either a \"lying spirit,\" or else a most\nimpish one, for there is no trace of an altar, and it is impossible to\nsay, from the style of the room, where it stood; while the tessellated\npavement (if it exists) is so covered with the debris of the former\nroof that it would be almost impossible to have it thoroughly cleared.\n\nThere is as well a miscellaneous assortment of ghosts. A monk with\ntonsure and cowl walks in at one window of the Priest's House, and out at\nanother. There is also a little old man, dressed in the antique garb\nof a green cut-away coat, knee breeches, and buckled shoes: he is\nsometimes accompanied by an old lady in similar old-fashioned costume.\nAnother ghost has a penchant for lying on the bed beside its lawful and\nearthly occupant; nothing is seen, but a great weight is felt, and a\nconsequent deep impression made on the bedclothes.\n\nThe lady of the house states that she has a number of letters from\nfriends, in which they relate the supernatural experiences they had while\nstaying at the Castle. In one of these the writer, a gentleman, was\nawakened one night by an extraordinary feeling of intense cold at his\nheart. He then saw in front of him a tall female figure, clothed from\nhead to foot in red, and with its right hand raised menacingly in the\nair: the light which illuminated the figure was from within. He lit a\nmatch, and sprang out of bed, but the room was empty. He went back to\nbed, and saw nothing more that night, except that several times the same\ncold feeling gripped his heart, though to the touch the flesh was quite\nwarm.\n\nBut of all the ghosts in that well-haunted house the most unpleasant is\nthat inexplicable thing that is usually called \"It.\" The lady of the\nhouse described to the present writer her personal experience of this\nphantom. High up round one side of the hall runs a gallery which connects\nwith some of the bedrooms. One evening she was in this gallery leaning on\nthe balustrade, and looking down into the hall. Suddenly she felt two\nhands laid on her shoulders; she turned round sharply, and saw \"It\"\nstanding close beside her. She described it as being human in shape, and\nabout four feet high; the eyes were like two black holes in the face, and\nthe whole figure seemed as if it were made of grey cotton-wool, while it\nwas accompanied by a most appalling stench, such as would come from a\ndecaying human body. The lady got a shock from which she did not recover\nfor a long time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nPOLTERGEISTS\n\n\nPoltergeist is the term assigned to those apparently meaningless noises\nand movements of objects of which we from time to time hear accounts. The\nword is, of course, German, and may be translated \"boisterous ghost.\" A\npoltergeist is seldom or never seen, but contents itself by moving\nfurniture and other objects about in an extraordinary manner, often\ncontrary to the laws of gravitation; sometimes footsteps are heard, but\nnothing is visible, while at other times vigorous rappings will be heard\neither on the walls or floor of a room, and in the manner in which the\nraps are given a poltergeist has often showed itself as having a close\nconnection with the physical phenomena of spiritualism, for cases have\noccurred in which a poltergeist has given the exact number of raps\nmentally asked for by some person present. Another point that is worthy\nof note is the fact that the hauntings of a poltergeist are generally\nattached to a certain individual in a certain spot, and thus differ from\nthe operations of an ordinary ghost.\n\nThe two following incidents related in this chapter are taken from a\npaper read by Professor Barrett, F.R.S., before the Society for Psychical\nResearch.[6] In the case of the first anecdote he made every possible\ninquiry into the facts set forth, short of actually being an eye-witness\nof the phenomena. In the case of the second he made personal\ninvestigation, and himself saw the whole of the incidents related. There\nis therefore very little room to doubt the genuineness of either story.\n\n[Footnote 6: _Proceedings_, August 1911, pp. 377-95.]\n\nIn the year 1910, in a certain house in Court Street, Enniscorthy, there\nlived a labouring man named Redmond. His wife took in boarders to\nsupplement her husband's wages, and at the time to which we refer there\nwere three men boarding with her, who slept in one room above the\nkitchen. The house consisted of five rooms--two on the ground-floor, of\nwhich one was a shop and the other the kitchen. The two other rooms\nupstairs were occupied by the Redmonds and their servant respectively.\nThe bedroom in which the boarders slept was large, and contained two\nbeds, one at each end of the room, two men sleeping in one of them; John\nRandall and George Sinnott were the names of two, but the name of the\nthird lodger is not known--he seems to have left the Redmonds very\nshortly after the disturbances commenced.\n\nIt was on July 4, 1910, that John Randall, who is a carpenter by trade,\nwent to live at Enniscorthy, and took rooms with the Redmonds. In a\nsigned statement, now in possession of Professor Barrett, he tells a\ngraphic tale of what occurred each night during the three weeks he lodged\nin the house, and as a result of the poltergeist's attentions he lost\nthree-quarters of a stone in weight. It was on the night of Thursday,\nJuly 7, that the first incident occurred, when the bedclothes were gently\npulled off his bed. Of course he naturally thought it was a joke, and\nshouted to his companions to stop. As no one could explain what was\nhappening, a match was struck, and the bedclothes were found to be at the\nwindow, from which the other bed (a large piece of furniture which\nordinarily took two people to move) had been rolled just when the clothes\nhad been taken off Randall's bed. Things were put straight and the light\nblown out, \"but,\" Randall's account goes on to say, \"it wasn't long until\nwe heard some hammering in the room--tap-tap-tap-like. This lasted for a\nfew minutes, getting quicker and quicker. When it got very quick, their\nbed started to move out across the room.... We then struck a match and\ngot the lamp. We searched the room thoroughly, and could find nobody.\nNobody had come in the door. We called the man of the house (Redmond); he\ncame into the room, saw the bed, and told us to push it back and get into\nbed (he thought all the time one of us was playing the trick on the\nother). I said I wouldn't stay in the other bed by myself, so I got in\nwith the others; we put out the light again, and it had only been a\ncouple of minutes out when the bed ran out on the floor with the three of\nus. Richard struck a match again, and this time we all got up and put on\nour clothes; we had got a terrible fright and couldn't stick it any\nlonger. We told the man of the house we would sit up in the room till\ndaylight. During the time we were sitting in the room we could hear\nfootsteps leaving the kitchen and coming up the stairs; it would stop on\nthe landing outside the door, and wouldn't come into the room. The\nfootsteps and noises continued through the house until daybreak.\"\n\nThe next night the footsteps and noises were continued, but the\nunfortunate men did not experience any other annoyance. On the following\nday the men went home, and it is to be hoped they were able to make up\nfor all the sleep they had lost on the two previous nights. They returned\non the Sunday, and from that night till they finally left the house the\nmen were disturbed practically every night. On Monday, 11th July the bed\nwas continually running out from the wall with its three occupants. They\nkept the lamp alight, and a chair was seen to dance gaily out into the\nmiddle of the floor. On the following Thursday we read of the same\nhappenings, with the addition that one of the boarders was lifted out\nof the bed, though he felt no hand near him. It seems strange that they\nshould have gone through such a bad night exactly a week from the night\nthe poltergeist started its operations. So the account goes on; every\nnight that they slept in the room the hauntings continued, some nights\nbeing worse than others. On Friday, 29th July, \"the bed turned up on one\nside and threw us out on the floor, and before we were thrown out, the\npillow was taken from under my head three times. When the bed rose up, it\nfell back without making any noise. This bed was so heavy, it took both\nthe woman and the girl to pull it out from the wall without anybody in\nit, and there were only three castors on it.\" The poltergeist must have\nbeen an insistent fellow, for when the unfortunate men took refuge in the\nother bed, they had not been long in it before it began to rise, but\ncould not get out of the recess it was in unless it was taken to pieces.\n\n\"It kept very bad,\" we read, \"for the next few nights. So Mr. Murphy,\nfrom the _Guardian_ office, and another man named Devereux, came and\nstopped in the room one night.\"\n\nThe experiences of Murphy and Devereux on this night are contained in a\nfurther statement, signed by Murphy and corroborated by Devereux. They\nseem to have gone to work in a business-like manner, as before taking\ntheir positions for the night they made a complete investigation of the\nbedroom and house, so as to eliminate all chance of trickery or fraud. By\nthis time, it should be noted, one of Mrs. Redmond's lodgers had\nevidently suffered enough from the poltergeist, as only two men are\nmentioned in Murphy's statement, one sleeping in each bed. The two\ninvestigators took up their position against the wall midway between the\ntwo beds, so that they had a full view of the room and the occupants of\nthe beds. \"The night,\" says Murphy, \"was a clear, starlight night. No\nblind obstructed the view from outside, and one could see the outlines of\nthe beds and their occupants clearly. At about 11.30 a tapping was heard\nclose at the foot of Randall's bed. My companion remarked that it\nappeared to be like the noise of a rat eating at timber.\n\n\"Sinnott replied, 'You'll soon see the rat it is.' The tapping went on\nslowly at first ... then the speed gradually increased to about a hundred\nor a hundred and twenty per minute, the noise growing louder. This\ncontinued for about five minutes, when it stopped suddenly. Randall then\nspoke. He said: 'The clothes are slipping off my bed: look at them\nsliding off. Good God, they are going off me.' Mr. Devereux immediately\nstruck a match, which he had ready in his hand. The bedclothes had partly\nleft the boy's bed, having gone diagonally towards the foot, going out at\nthe left corner, and not alone did they seem to be drawn off the bed, but\nthey appeared to be actually going back under the bed, much in the same\nposition one would expect bedclothes to be if a strong breeze were\nblowing through the room at the time. But then everything was perfectly\ncalm.\"\n\nA search was then made for wires or strings, but nothing of the sort\ncould be found. The bedclothes were put back and the light extinguished.\nFor ten minutes silence reigned, only to be broken by more rapping which\nwas followed by shouts from Randall. He was told to hold on to the\nclothes, which were sliding off again. But this was of little use, for he\nwas heard to cry, \"I'm going, I'm going, I'm gone,\" and when a light was\nstruck he was seen to slide from the bed and all the bedclothes with him.\nRandall, who, with Sinnott, had shown considerable strength of mind by\nstaying in the house under such trying circumstances, had evidently had\nenough of ghostly hauntings, for as he lay on the floor, trembling in\nevery limb and bathed in perspiration, he exclaimed: \"Oh, isn't this\ndreadful? I can't stand it; I can't stay here any longer.\" He was\neventually persuaded to get back to bed. Later on more rapping occurred\nin a different part of the room, but it soon stopped, and the rest of the\nnight passed away in peace.\n\nRandall and Sinnott went to their homes the next day, and Mr. Murphy\nspent from eleven till long past midnight in their vacated room, but\nheard and saw nothing unusual. He states in conclusion that \"Randall\ncould not reach that part of the floor from which the rapping came on any\noccasion without attracting my attention and that of my comrade.\"\n\nThe next case related by Professor Barrett occurred in County Fermanagh,\nat a spot eleven miles from Enniskillen and about two miles from the\nhamlet of Derrygonelly, where there dwelt a farmer and his family of four\ngirls and a boy, of whom the eldest was a girl of about twenty years of\nage named Maggie. His cottage consisted of three rooms, the kitchen, or\ndwelling-room, being in the centre, with a room on each side used as\nbedrooms. In one of these two rooms Maggie slept with her sisters, and it\nwas here that the disturbances occurred, generally after they had all\ngone to bed, when rappings and scratchings were heard which often lasted\nall night. Rats were first blamed, but when things were moved by some\nunseen agent, and boots and candles thrown out of the house, it was seen\nthat something more than the ordinary rat was at work. The old farmer,\nwho was a Methodist, sought advice from his class leader, and by his\ndirections laid an open Bible on the bed in the haunted room, placing a\nbig stone on the book. But the stone was lifted off by an unseen hand,\nthe Bible moved out of the room, and seventeen pages torn out of it. They\ncould not keep a lamp or candle in the house, so they went to their\nneighbours for help, and, to quote the old farmer's words to Professor\nBarrett, \"Jack Flanigan came and lent us a lamp, saying the devil himself\nwould not steal it, as he had got the priest to sprinkle it with holy\nwater.\" \"But that,\" the old man said, \"did us no good either, for the\nnext day it took away that lamp also.\"\n\nProfessor Barrett, at the invitation of Mr. Thomas Plunkett of\nEnniskillen, went to investigate. He got a full account from the farmer\nof the freakish tricks which were continually being played in the house,\nand gives a graphic account of what he himself observed: \"After the\nchildren, except the boy, had gone to bed, Maggie lay down on the bed\nwithout undressing, so that her hands and feet could be observed. The\nrest of us sat round the kitchen fire, when faint raps, rapidly\nincreasing in loudness, were heard coming apparently from the walls,\nthe ceiling, and various parts of the inner room, the door of which was\nopen. On entering the bedroom with a light the noises at first ceased,\nbut recommenced when I put the light on the window-sill in the kitchen. I\nhad the boy and his father by my side, and asked Mr. Plunkett to look\nround the house outside. Standing in the doorway leading to the bedroom,\nthe noises recommenced, the light was gradually brought nearer, and after\nmuch patience I was able to bring the light into the bedroom whilst the\ndisturbances were still loudly going on. At last I was able to go up to\nthe side of the bed, with the lighted candle in my hand, and closely\nobserved each of the occupants lying on the bed. The younger children\nwere apparently asleep, and Maggie was motionless; nevertheless, knocks\nwere going on everywhere around; on the chairs, the bedstead, the walls\nand ceiling. The closest scrutiny failed to detect any movement on the\npart of those present that could account for the noises, which were\naccompanied by a scratching or tearing sound. Suddenly a large pebble\nfell in my presence on to the bed; no one had moved to dislodge it, even\nif it had been placed for the purpose. When I replaced the candle on the\nwindow-sill in the kitchen, the knocks became still louder, like those\nmade by a heavy carpenter's hammer driving nails into flooring.\"\n\nA couple of days afterwards, the Rev. Maxwell Close, M.A., a well-known\nmember of the S.P.R., joined Professor Barrett and Mr. Plunkett, and\ntogether the party of three paid visits on two consecutive nights to the\nhaunted farm-house, and the noises were repeated. Complete search was\nmade, both inside and outside of the house, but no cause could be found.\nWhen the party were leaving, the old farmer was much perturbed that they\nhad not \"laid the ghost.\" When questioned he said he thought it was\nfairies. He was asked if it had answered to questions by raps and he said\nhe had; \"but it tells lies as often as truth, and oftener, I think. We\ntried it, and it only knocked at L M N when we said the alphabet over.\"\nProfessor Barrett then tested it by asking mentally for a certain number\nof raps, and immediately the actual number was heard. He repeated this\nfour times with a different number each time, and with the same result.\n\nPerhaps the most interesting part of this particular case is at the end\nof Professor Barrett's account, when, at the request of the old farmer,\nMr. Maxwell Close read some passages from Scripture, followed by the\nLord's Prayer, to an accompaniment of knockings and scratches, which were\nat first so loud that the solemn words could hardly be heard, but which\ngradually ceased as they all knelt in prayer. And since that night no\nfurther disturbance occurred.\n\nAnother similar story comes from the north of Ireland. In the year 1866\n(as recorded in the _Larne Reporter_ of March 31 in that year), two\nfamilies residing at Upper Ballygowan, near Larne, suffered a series of\nannoyances from having stones thrown into their houses both by night and\nby day. Their neighbours came in great numbers to sympathise with them in\ntheir affliction, and on one occasion, after a volley of stones had been\npoured into the house through the window, a young man who was present\nfired a musket in the direction of the mysterious assailants. The reply\nwas a loud peal of satanic laughter, followed by a volley of stones and\nturf. On another occasion a heap of potatoes, which was in an inner\napartment of one of the houses, was seen to be in commotion, and shortly\nafterwards its contents were hurled into the kitchen, where the inmates\nof the house, with some of their neighbours, were assembled.\n\nThe explanation given by some people of this mysterious affair was as\nmysterious as the affair itself. It was said that many years before the\noccurrences which we have now related took place, the farmer who then\noccupied the premises in which they happened was greatly annoyed by\nmischievous tricks which were played upon him by a company of fairies who\nhad a habit of holding their rendezvous in his house. The consequence was\nthat this man had to leave the house, which for a long time stood a\nroofless ruin. After the lapse of many years, and when the story about\nthe dilapidated fabric having been haunted had probably been forgotten,\nthe people who then occupied the adjoining lands unfortunately took some\nof the stones of the old deserted mansion to repair their own buildings.\nAt this the fairies, or \"good people,\" were much incensed; and they\nvented their displeasure on the offender in the way we have described.\n\nA correspondent from County Wexford, who desires to have his name\nsuppressed, writes as follows: \"Less than ten miles from the town\nof ----, Co. Wexford, lives a small farmer named M----, who by dint of\nthrift and industry has reared a large family decently and comfortably.\n\n\"Some twenty years ago Mr. M----, through the death of a relative, fell\nin for a legacy of about a hundred pounds. As he was already in rather\nprosperous circumstances, and as his old thatched dwelling-house was not\nlarge enough to accommodate his increasing family, he resolved to spend\nthe money in building a new one.\n\n\"Not long afterwards building operations commenced, and in about a year\nhe had a fine slated cottage, or small farm-house, erected and ready for\noccupation: so far very well; but it is little our friend M----\nanticipated the troubles which were still ahead of him. He purchased some\nnew furniture at the nearest town, and on a certain day he removed all\nthe furniture which the old house contained into the new one; and in the\nevening the family found themselves installed in the latter for good, as\nthey thought. They all retired to rest at their usual hour; scarcely were\nthey snugly settled in bed when they heard peculiar noises inside the\nhouse. As time passed the din became terrible--there was shuffling of\nfeet, slamming of doors, pulling about of furniture, and so forth. The\nman of the house got up to explore, but could see nothing, neither was\nanything disturbed. The door was securely locked as he had left it. After\na thorough investigation, in which his wife assisted, he had to own he\ncould find no clue to the cause of the disturbance. The couple went to\nbed again, and almost immediately the racket recommenced, and continued\nmore or less till dawn.\n\n\"The inmates were puzzled and frightened, but determined to try whether\nthe noise would be repeated the next night before telling their\nneighbours what had happened. But the pandemonium experienced the first\nnight of their occupation was as nothing compared with what they had\nto endure the second night and for several succeeding nights. Sleep was\nimpossible, and finally Mr. M---- and family in terror abandoned their\nnew home, and retook possession of their old one.\n\n\"That is the state of things to this day. The old house has been repaired\nand is tenanted. The new house, a few perches off, facing the public\nroad, is used as a storehouse. The writer has seen it scores of times,\nand its story is well known all over the country-side. Mr. M---- is\ndisinclined to discuss the matter or to answer questions; but it is said\nhe made several subsequent attempts to occupy the house, but always\nfailed to stand his ground when night came with its usual rowdy\ndisturbances.\n\n\"It is said that when building operations were about to begin, a little\nman of bizarre appearance accosted Mr. M---- and exhorted him to build on\na different site; otherwise the consequences would be unpleasant for him\nand his; while the local peasantry allege that the house was built across\na fairy pathway between two _raths_, and that this was the cause of the\ntrouble. It is quite true that there are two large _raths_ in the\nvicinity, and the haunted house is directly in a bee-line between them.\nFor myself I offer no explanation; but I guarantee the substantial\naccuracy of what I have stated above.\"\n\nProfessor Barrett, in the paper to which we have already referred, draws\ncertain conclusions from his study of this subject; one of the chief of\nthese is that \"the widespread belief in fairies, pixies, gnomes,\nbrownies, etc., probably rests on the varied manifestations of\npoltergeists.\" The popular explanation of the above story bears out this\nconclusion, and it is further emphasized by the following, which comes\nfrom Portarlington: A man near that town had saved five hundred pounds,\nand determined to build a house with the money. He fixed on a certain\nspot, and began to build, very much against the advice of his friends,\nwho said it was on a fairy path, and would bring him ill-luck. Soon the\nhouse was finished, and the owner moved in; but the very first night his\ntroubles began, for some unseen hand threw the furniture about and broke\nit, while the man himself was injured. Being unwilling to lose the value\nof his money, he tried to make the best of things. But night after night\nthe disturbances continued, and life in the house was impossible; the\nowner chose the better part of valour and left. No tenant has been found\nsince, and the house stands empty, a silent testimony to the power of the\npoltergeist.\n\nPoltergeistic phenomena from their very nature lend themselves to\nspurious reproduction and imitation, as witness the famous case of Cock\nLane and many other similar stories. At least one well-known case\noccurred in Ireland, and is interesting as showing that where fraud is at\nwork, close investigation will discover it. It is related that an old\nRoyal Irish Constabulary pensioner, who obtained a post as emergency man\nduring the land troubles, and who in 1892 was in charge of an evicted\nfarm in the Passage East district, was being continually disturbed by\nfurniture and crockery being thrown about in a mysterious manner. Reports\nwere brought to the police, and they investigated the matter; but nothing\nwas heard or seen beyond knocking on an inside wall of a bedroom in which\none of the sons was sleeping; this knocking ceased when the police were\nin the bedroom, and no search was made in the boy's bed to see if he had\na stick. The police therefore could find no explanation, the noises\ncontinued night after night, and eventually the family left and went to\nlive in Waterford. A great furore was raised when it was learnt that the\nhauntings had followed them, and again investigation was made, but it\nseems to have been more careful this time: an eye was kept on the\nmovements of the young son, and at least two independent witnesses saw\nhim throwing things about--fireirons and jam-pots--when he thought his\nfather was not looking. It seems to have been a plot between the mother\nand son owing to the former's dislike to her husband's occupation, which\nentailed great unpopularity and considerable personal risk. Fearing for\nher own and her family's safety, the wife conceived of this plan to force\nher husband to give up his post. Her efforts were successful, as the man\nsoon resigned his position and went to live elsewhere.[7]\n\n[Footnote 7: _Proceedings_, S.P.R.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nHAUNTED PLACES\n\n\nThat houses are haunted and apparitions frequently seen therein are\npretty well established facts. The preceding chapters have dealt with\nthis aspect of the subject, and, in view of the weight of evidence to\nprove the truth of the stories told in them, it would be hard for anyone\nto doubt that there is such a thing as a haunted house, whatever\nexplanation maybe given of \"haunting.\" We now turn to another division of\nthe subject--the outdoor ghost who haunts the roadways, country lanes,\nand other places. Sceptics on ghostly phenomena are generally pretty full\nof explanations when they are told of a ghost having been seen in a\nparticular spot, and the teller may be put down as hyper-imaginative, or\nas having been deluded by moonlight playing through the trees; while\ncases are not wanting where a reputation for temperance has been lost by\na man telling his experiences of a ghost he happens to have met along\nsome country lane; and the fact that there are cases where an imaginative\nand nervous person has mistaken for a ghost a white goat or a sheet\nhanging on a bush only strengthens the sceptic's disbelief and makes him\nblind to the very large weight of evidence that can be arrayed against\nhim. Some day, no doubt, psychologists and scientists will be able to\ngive us a complete and satisfactory explanation of these abnormal\napparitions, but at present we are very much in the dark, and any\nexplanation that may be put forward is necessarily of a tentative nature.\n\nThe following story is sent us by Mr. J. J. Crowley, of the Munster and\nLeinster Bank, who writes as follows: \"The scene is outside Clonmel, on\nthe main road leading up to a nice old residence on the side of the\nmountains called ---- Lodge. I happened to be visiting my friends, two\nother bank men. It was night, about eight o'clock, moonless, and\ntolerably dark, and when within a quarter of a mile or perhaps less of\na bridge over a small stream near the house I saw a girl, dressed in\nwhite, wearing a black sash and long flowing hair, walk in the direction\nfrom me up the culvert of the bridge and disappear down the other side.\nAt the time I saw it I thought it most peculiar that I could distinguish\na figure so far away, and thought a light of some sort must be falling on\nthe girl, or that there were some people about and that some of them had\nstruck a match. When I got to the place I looked about, but could find no\nperson there.\n\n\"I related this story to my friends some time after arriving, and was\nthen told that one of them had wakened up in his sleep a few nights\npreviously, and had seen an identical figure standing at the foot of his\nbed, and rushed in fright from his room, taking refuge for the night with\nthe other lodger. They told the story to their landlady, and learned from\nher that this apparition had frequently been seen about the place, and\nwas the spirit of one of her daughters who had died years previously\nrather young, and who, previous to her death, had gone about just as we\ndescribed the figure we had seen. I had heard nothing of this story until\nafter I had seen the ghost, and consequently it could not be put down to\nhallucination or over-imagination on my part.\"\n\nThe experiences of two constables of the Royal Irish Constabulary while\non despatch duty one winter's night in the early eighties has been sent\nus by one of the men concerned, and provides interesting reading. It was\na fine moonlight night, with a touch of frost in the air, when these two\nmen set out to march the five miles to the next barrack. Brisk walking\nsoon brought them near their destination. The barrack which they were\napproaching was on the left side of the road, and facing it on the other\nside was a whitethorn hedge. The road at this point was wide, and as the\ntwo constables got within fifty yards of the barrack, they saw a\npoliceman step out from this hedge and move across the road, looking\ntowards the two men as he did so. He was plainly visible to them both.\n\"He was bare-headed\" (runs the account), \"with his tunic opened down the\nfront, a stout-built man, black-haired, pale, full face, and short\nmutton-chop whiskers.\" They thought he was a newly-joined constable who\nwas doing \"guard\" and had come out to get some fresh air while waiting\nfor a patrol to return. As the two men approached, he disappeared into\nthe shadow of the barrack, and apparently went in by the door; to their\namazement, when they came up they found the door closed and bolted, and\nit was only after loud knocking that they got a sleepy \"All right\" from\nsome one inside, and after the usual challenging were admitted. There\nwas no sign of the strange policeman when they got in, and on inquiry\nthey learnt that no new constable had joined the station. The two men\nrealised then that they had seen a ghost, but refrained from saying\nanything about it to the men at the station--a very sensible precaution,\nconsidering the loneliness of the average policeman's life in this\ncountry.\n\nSome years afterwards the narrator of the above story learnt that a\npoliceman had been lost in a snow-drift near this particular barrack.\nWhether this be the explanation we leave to others: the facts as stated\nare well vouched for. There is no evidence to support the theory of\nhallucination, for the apparition was so vivid that the idea of its being\nother than normal never entered the constables' heads _till they had got\ninto the barrack_. When they found the door shut and bolted, their\namazement was caused by indignation against an apparently unsociable\nor thoughtless comrade, and it was only afterwards, while discussing the\nwhole thing on their homeward journey, that it occurred to them that it\nwould have been impossible for any ordinary mortal to shut, bolt, and bar\na door without making a sound.\n\nIn the winter of 1840-1, in the days when snow and ice and all their\nattendant pleasures were more often in evidence than in these degenerate\ndays, a skating party was enjoying itself on the pond in the grounds of\nthe Castle near Rathfarnham, Co. Dublin. Among the skaters was a man who\nhad with him a very fine curly-coated retriever dog. The pond was\nthronged with people enjoying themselves, when suddenly the ice gave\nway beneath him, and the man fell into the water; the dog went to his\nrescue, and both were drowned. A monument was erected to perpetuate the\nmemory of the dog's heroic self-sacrifice, but only the pedestal now\nremains. The ghost of the dog is said to haunt the grounds and the public\nroad between the castle gate and the Dodder Bridge. Many people have seen\nthe phantom dog, and the story is well known locally.\n\nThe ghost of a boy who was murdered by a Romany is said to haunt one of\nthe lodge gates of the Castle demesne, and the lodge-keeper states that\nhe saw it only a short time ago. The Castle, however, is now in\npossession of Jesuit Fathers, and the Superior assures us that there has\nbeen no sign of a ghost for a long time, his explanation being that the\nplace is so crowded out with new buildings \"that even a ghost would have\nsome difficulty in finding a comfortable corner.\"\n\nIt is a fairly general belief amongst students of supernatural phenomena\nthat animals have the psychic faculty developed to a greater extent than\nwe have. There are numerous stories which tell of animals being scared\nand frightened by something that is invisible to a human being, and the\nexplanation given is that the animal has seen a ghost which we cannot\nsee. A story that is told of a certain spot near the village of G----, in\nCo. Kilkenny, supports this theory. The account was sent us by the\neye-witness of what occurred, and runs as follows: \"I was out for a walk\none evening near the town of G---- about 8.45 P.M., and was crossing the\nbridge that leads into the S. Carlow district with a small wire-haired\nterrier dog. When we were about three-quarters of a mile out, the dog\nbegan to bark and yelp in a most vicious manner at 'nothing' on the\nleft-hand side of the roadway and near to a straggling hedge. I felt a\nbit creepy and that something was wrong. The dog kept on barking, but I\ncould at first see nothing, but on looking closely for a few seconds I\nbelieve I saw a small grey-white object vanish gradually and noiselessly\ninto the hedge. No sooner had it vanished than the dog ceased barking,\nwagged his tail, and seemed pleased with his successful efforts.\" The\nnarrator goes on to say that he made inquiries when he got home, and\nfound that this spot on the road had a very bad reputation, as people had\nfrequently seen a ghost there, while horses had often to be beaten,\ncoaxed, or led past the place. The explanation locally current is that a\nsuicide was buried at the cross-roads near at hand, or that it may be the\nghost of a man who is known to have been killed at the spot.\n\nThe following story has been sent us by the Rev. H.R.B. Gillespie, to\nwhom it was told by one of the witnesses of the incidents described\ntherein. One bright moonlight night some time ago a party consisting of a\nman, his two daughters, and a friend were driving along a country road in\nCounty Leitrim. They came to a steep hill, and all except the driver got\ndown to walk. One of the two sisters walked on in front, and after her\ncame the other two, followed closely by the trap. They had not gone far,\nwhen those in rear saw a shabbily-dressed man walking beside the girl who\nwas leading. But she did not seem to be taking any notice of him, and,\nwondering what he could be, they hastened to overtake her. But just when\nthey were catching her up the figure suddenly dashed into the shadow of a\ndisused forge, which stood by the side of the road, and as it did so the\nhorse, which up to this had been perfectly quiet, reared up and became\nunmanageable. The girl beside whom the figure had walked had seen and\nheard nothing. The road was not bordered by trees or a high hedge, so\nthat it could not have been some trick of the moonlight. One of the girls\ndescribed the appearance of the figure to a local workman, who said, \"It\nis very like a tinker who was found dead in that forge about six months\nago.\"\n\nHere is another story of a haunted spot on a road, where a \"ghost\" was\nseen, not at the witching hour of night, not when evening shadows\nlengthen, but in broad daylight. It is sent to us by the percipient,\na lady, who does not desire to have her name mentioned. She was walking\nalong a country road in the vicinity of Cork one afternoon, and passed\nvarious people. She then saw coming towards her a country-woman dressed\nin an old-fashioned style. This figure approached her, and when it drew\nnear, suddenly staggered, as if under the influence of drink, and\ndisappeared! She hastened to the spot, but searched in vain for any clue\nto the mystery; the road was bounded by high walls, and there was no\ngateway or gap through which the figure might slip. Much mystified, she\ncontinued on her way, and arrived at her destination. She there mentioned\nwhat had occurred, and was then informed by an old resident in the\nneighbourhood that that woman had constantly been seen up to twenty years\nbefore, but not since that date. By the country-people the road was\nbelieved to be haunted, but the percipient did not know this at the time.\n\nThe following is sent us by Mr. T. J. Westropp, and has points of its own\nwhich are interesting; he states: \"On the road from Bray to Windgates, at\nthe Deerpark of Kilruddy, is a spot which, whatever be the explanation,\nis distinguished by weird sounds and (some say) sights. I on one occasion\nwas walking with a friend to catch the train at Bray about eleven o'clock\none evening some twenty-five years ago, when we both heard heavy steps\nand rustling of bracken in the Deerpark; apparently some one got over the\ngate, crossed the road with heavy steps and fell from the wall next Bray\nHead, rustling and slightly groaning. The night was lightsome, though\nwithout actual moonlight, and we could see nothing over the wall where we\nhad heard the noise.\n\n\"For several years after I dismissed the matter as a delusion; but when I\ntold the story to some cousins, they said that another relative (now a\nFellow of Trinity College, Dublin) had heard it too, and that there was\na local belief that it was the ghost of a poacher mortally wounded by\ngamekeepers, who escaped across the road and died beyond it.\" Mr.\nWestropp afterwards got the relative mentioned above to tell his\nexperience, and it corresponded with his own, except that the ghost was\nvisible. \"The clergyman who was rector of Greystones at that time used to\nsay that he had heard exactly similar noises though he had seen nothing.\"\n\nThe following story of an occurrence near Dublin is sent us by a lady who\nis a very firm believer in ghosts. On a fine night some years ago two\nsisters were returning home from the theatre. They were walking along a\nvery lonely part of the Kimmage Road about two miles beyond the tram\nterminus, and were chatting gaily as they went, when suddenly they heard\nthe \"clink, clink\" of a chain coming towards them. At first they thought\nit was a goat or a donkey which had got loose, and was dragging its chain\nalong the ground. But they could see nothing, and could hear no noise but\nthe clink of the chain, although the road was clear and straight. Nearer\nand nearer came the noise, gradually getting louder, and as it passed\nthem closely they distinctly felt a blast or whiff of air. They were\nparalysed with an indefinable fear, and were scarcely able to drag\nthemselves along the remaining quarter of a mile to their house. The\nelder of the two was in very bad health, and the other had almost to\ncarry her. Immediately she entered the house she collapsed, and had\nto be revived with brandy.\n\nAn old woman, it seems, had been murdered for her savings by a tramp near\nthe spot where this strange occurrence took place, and it is thought that\nthere is a connection between the crime and the haunting of this part of\nthe Kimmage Road. Whatever the explanation may be, the whole story bears\nevery evidence of truth, and it would be hard for anyone to disprove it.\n\nChurchyards are generally considered to be the hunting-ground of all\nsorts and conditions of ghosts. People who would on all other occasions,\nwhen the necessity arises, prove themselves to be possessed of at any\nrate a normal amount of courage, turn pale and shiver at the thought of\nhaving to pass through a churchyard at dead of night. It may be some\nencouragement to such to state that out of a fairly large collection of\naccounts of haunted places, only one relates to a churchyard. The story\nis told by Mr. G. H. Millar of Edgeworthstown: \"During the winter of\n1875,\" he writes, \"I attended a soiree about five miles from here. I was\nriding, and on my way home about 11.30 P.M. I had to pass by the old\nruins and burial-ground of Abbeyshrule. The road led round by two sides\nof the churchyard. It was a bright moonlight night, and as my girth broke\nI was walking the horse quite slowly. As I passed the ruin, I saw what I\ntook to be a policeman in a long overcoat; he was walking from the centre\nof the churchyard towards the corner, and, as far as I could see, would\nbe at the corner by the time I would reach it, and we would meet. Quite\nsuddenly, however, he disappeared, and I could see no trace of him. Soon\nafter I overtook a man who had left the meeting long before me. I\nexpressed wonder that he had not been farther on, and he explained that\nhe went a 'round-about' way to avoid passing the old abbey, as he did not\nwant to see 'The Monk.' On questioning him, he told me that a monk was\noften seen in the churchyard.\"\n\nA story told of a ghost which haunts a certain spot on an estate near the\ncity of Waterford, bears a certain resemblance to the last story for the\nreason that it was only after the encounter had taken place in both cases\nthat it was known that anything out of the ordinary had been seen. In the\nearly eighties of last century ---- Court, near Waterford, was occupied\nby Mr. and Mrs. S---- and their family of two young boys and a girl of\ntwenty-one years of age. Below the house is a marshy glen with a big open\ndrain cut through it. Late one evening the daughter was out shooting\nrabbits near this drain and saw, as she thought, her half-brother\nstanding by the drain in a sailor suit, which like other small boys he\nwore. She called to him once or twice, and to her surprise got no reply.\nShe went towards him, and when she got close he suddenly disappeared. The\nnext day she asked an old dependent, who had lived many years in the\nplace, if there was anything curious about the glen. He replied at once:\n\"Oh! you mean the little sailor man. Sure, he won't do you any harm.\"\nThis was the first she had heard of anything of the sort, but it was then\nfound that none of the country-people would go through the glen after\ndusk.\n\nSome time afterwards two sons of the clergyman of the parish in\nwhich ---- Court stands were out one evening fishing in the drain, when\none of them suddenly said, \"What's that sailor doing there?\" The other\nsaw nothing, and presently the figure vanished. At the time of the\nappearance neither had heard of Miss S----'s experience, and no one has\nbeen able to explain it, as there is apparently no tradition of any\n\"little sailor man\" having been there in the flesh.\n\nMr. Joseph M'Crossan, a journalist on the staff of the _Strabane\nChronicle_, has sent us a cutting from that paper describing a ghost\nwhich appeared to men working in an engine-house at Strabane railway\nstation on two successive nights in October 1913. The article depicts\nvery graphically the antics of the ghost and the fear of the men who saw\nit. Mr. M'Crossan interviewed one of these men (Pinkerton by name), and\nthe story as told in his words is as follows: \"Michael Madden, Fred\nOliphant, and I were engaged inside a shed cleaning engines, when, at\nhalf-past twelve (midnight), a knocking came to all the doors, and\ncontinued without interruption, accompanied by unearthly yells. The three\nof us went to one of the doors, and saw--I could swear to it without\ndoubt--the form of a man of heavy build. I thought I was about to faint.\nMy hair stood high on my head. We all squealed for help, when the\nwatchman and signalman came fast to our aid. Armed with a crowbar, the\nsignalman made a dash at the 'spirit,' but was unable to strike down the\nghost, which hovered about our shed till half-past two. It was moonlight,\nand we saw it plainly. There was no imagination on our part. We three\ncleaners climbed up the engine, and hid on the roof of the engine, lying\nthere till morning at our wit's end. The next night it came at half-past\none. Oliphant approached the spirit within two yards, but he then\ncollapsed, the ghost uttering terrible yells. I commenced work, but the\nspirit 'gazed' into my face, and I fell forward against the engine. Seven\nof us saw the ghost this time. Our clothes and everything in the shed\nwere tossed and thrown about.\"\n\nThe other engine-cleaners were interviewed and corroborated Pinkerton's\naccount. One of them stated that he saw the ghost run up and down a\nladder leading to a water tank and disappear into it, while the signalman\ndescribed how he struck at the ghost with a crowbar, but the weapon\nseemed to go through it. The spirit finally took his departure through\nthe window.\n\nThe details of this affair are very much on the lines of the good\nold-fashioned ghost yarns. But it is hard to see how so many men could\nlabour under the same delusion. The suggestion that the whole thing was\na practical joke may also be dismissed, for if the apparition had flesh\nand bones the crowbar would have soon proved it. The story goes that a\nman was murdered near the spot some time ago; whether there is any\nconnection between this crime and the apparition it would be hard to say.\nHowever, we are not concerned with explanations (for who, as yet, can\nexplain the supernatural?); the facts as stated have all the appearance\nof truth.\n\nMr. Patrick Ryan, of P----, Co. Limerick, gives us two stories as he\nheard them related by Mr. Michael O'Dwyer of the same place. The former\nis evidently a very strong believer in supernatural phenomena, but he\nrealises how strong is the unbelief of many, and in support of his\nstories he gives names of several persons who will vouch for the truth\nof them. With a few alterations, we give the story in his own words: \"Mr.\nO'Dwyer has related how one night, after he had carried the mails to the\ntrain, he went with some fodder for a heifer in a field close to the\nrailway station near to which was a creamery. He discovered the animal\ngrazing near the creamery although how she came to be there was a\nmystery, as a broad trench separated it from the rest of the field,\nwhich is only spanned by a plank used by pedestrians when crossing the\nfield. 'Perhaps,' he said in explanation, 'it was that he _should_ go\nthere to hear.' It was about a quarter to twelve (midnight), and, having\nsearched the field in vain, he was returning home, when, as he crossed\nthe plank, he espied the heifer browsing peacefully in the aforementioned\npart of the field which was near the creamery. He gave her the fodder\nand--Heavens! was he suffering from delusions? Surely his ears were not\ndeceiving him--from the creamery funnel there arose a dense volume of\nsmoke mingled with the sharp hissing of steam and the rattling of cans,\nall as if the creamery were working, and it were broad daylight. His\nheifer became startled and bellowed frantically. O'Dwyer, himself a man\nof nerves, yet possessing all the superstitions of the Celt, was startled\nand ran without ceasing to his home near by, where he went quickly to\nbed.\n\n\"O'Dwyer is not the only one who has seen this, as I have been told by\nseveral of my friends how they heard it. Who knows the mystery\nsurrounding this affair!\"\n\nThe second story relates to a certain railway station in the south of\nIreland; again we use Mr. Ryan's own words: \"A near relative of mine\" (he\nwrites) \"once had occasion to go to the mail train to meet a friend.\nWhile sitting talking to O'Dwyer, whom he met on the platform, he heard\ntalking going on in the waiting-room. O'Dwyer heard it also, and they\nwent to the door, but saw nothing save for the light of a waning moon\nwhich filtered in through the window. Uncertain, they struck matches, but\nsaw nothing. Again they sat outside, and again they heard the talking,\nand this time they did not go to look, for they knew about it. In the\nmemory of the writer a certain unfortunate person committed suicide on\nthe railway, and was carried to the waiting-room pending an inquest. He\nlay all night there till the inquest was held next day. 'Let us not look\nfurther into the matter,' said O'Dwyer, and my relative having\nacquiesced, he breathed a shuddering prayer for the repose of the dead.\"\n\nThe following story, which has been sent as a personal experience by Mr.\nWilliam Mackey of Strabane, is similar in many ways to an extraordinary\ncase of retro-cognitive vision which occurred some years ago to two\nEnglish ladies who were paying a visit to Versailles; and who published\ntheir experiences in a book entitled, _An Adventure_ (London, 1911). Mr.\nMackey writes: \"It was during the severe winter of the Crimean War, when\nindulging in my favourite sport of wild-fowl shooting, that I witnessed\nthe following strange scene. It was a bitterly cold night towards the end\nof November or beginning of December; the silvery moon had sunk in the\nwest shortly before midnight; the sport had been all that could be\ndesired, when I began to realise that the blood was frozen in my veins,\nand I was on the point of starting for home, when my attention was drawn\nto the barking of a dog close by, which was followed in a few seconds by\nthe loud report of a musket, the echo of which had scarcely died away in\nthe silent night, when several musket-shots went off in quick succession;\nthis seemed to be the signal for a regular fusillade of musketry, and it\nwas quite evident from the nature of the firing that there was attack and\ndefence.\n\n\"For the life of me I could not understand what it all meant; not being\nsuperstitious I did not for a moment imagine it was supernatural,\nnotwithstanding that my courageous dog was crouching in abject terror\nbetween my legs; beads of perspiration began to trickle down from my\nforehead, when suddenly there arose a flame as if a house were on fire,\nbut I knew from the position of the blaze (which was only a few hundred\nyards from where I stood), that there was no house there, or any\ncombustible that would burn, and what perplexed me most was to see pieces\nof burning thatch and timber sparks fall hissing into the water at my\nfeet. When the fire seemed at its height the firing appeared to weaken,\nand when the clear sound of a bugle floated out on the midnight air, it\nsuddenly ceased, and I could hear distinctly the sound of cavalry coming\nat a canter, their accoutrements jingling quite plainly on the frosty\nair; in a very short time they arrived at the scene of the fight. I\nthought it an eternity until they took their departure, which they\ndid at the walk.\n\n\"It is needless to say that, although the scene of this tumult was on my\nnearest way home, I did not venture that way, as, although there are many\npeople who would say that I never knew what fear was, I must confess on\nthis occasion I was thoroughly frightened.\n\n\"At breakfast I got a good sound rating from my father for staying out so\nlate. My excuse was that I fell asleep and had a horrible dream, which I\nrelated. When I finished I was told I had been dreaming with my eyes\nopen!--that I was not the first person who had witnessed this strange\nsight. He then told me the following narrative: 'It was towards the end\nof the seventeenth century that a widow named Sally Mackey and her three\nsons lived on the outskirts of the little settlement of the Mackeys. A\nwarrant was issued by the Government against the three sons for high\ntreason, the warrant being delivered for execution to the officer in\ncommand of the infantry regiment stationed at Lifford. A company was told\noff for the purpose of effecting the arrest, and the troops set out from\nLifford at 11 P.M.\n\n\"'The cottage home of the Mackeys was approached by a bridle-path,\nleading from the main road to Derry, which only permitted the military to\napproach in single file; they arrived there at midnight, and the first\nintimation the inmates had of danger was the barking, and then the\nshooting, of the collie dog. Possessing as they did several stand of\narms, they opened fire on the soldiers as they came in view and killed\nand wounded several; it was the mother, Sally Mackey, who did the\nshooting, the sons loading the muskets. Whether the cottage went on fire\nby accident or design was never known; it was only when the firing from\nthe cottage ceased and the door was forced open that the officer in\ncommand rushed in and brought out the prostrate form of the lady, who was\nseverely wounded and burned. All the sons perished, but the soldiers\nsuffered severely, a good many being killed and wounded.\n\n\"'The firing was heard by the sentries at Lifford, and a troop of cavalry\nwas despatched to the scene of conflict, but only arrived in time to see\nthe heroine dragged from the burning cottage. She had not, however, been\nfatally wounded, and lived for many years afterwards with a kinsmen. My\nfather remembered conversing with old men, when he was a boy, who\nremembered her well. She seemed to take a delight in narrating incidents\nof the fight to those who came to visit her, and would always finish up\nby making them feel the pellets between the skin and her ribs.'\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nAPPARITIONS AT OR AFTER DEATH\n\n\nIt has been said by a very eminent literary man that the accounts of the\nappearance of people at or shortly after the moment of death make very\ndull reading as a general rule. This may be; they are certainly not so\nlengthy, or full of detail, as the accounts of haunted houses--nor could\nsuch be expected. In our humble opinion, however, they are full of\ninterest, and open up problems of telepathy and thought-transference to\nwhich the solutions may not be found for years to come. That people have\nseen the image of a friend or relative at the moment of dissolution,\nsometimes in the ordinary garb of life, sometimes with symbolical\naccompaniments, or that they have been made acquainted in some abnormal\nmanner with the fact that such a one has passed away, seems to be\ndemonstrated beyond all reasonable doubt. But we would hasten to add that\nsuch appearances are not a proof of existence after death, nor can they\nbe regarded in the light of special interventions of a merciful\nProvidence. Were they either they would surely occur far oftener. The\nquestion is, Why do they occur at all? As it is, the majority of them\nseem to happen for no particular reason, and are often seen by persons\nwho have little or no connection with the deceased, not by their nearest\nand dearest, as one might expect. It is supposed they are _veridical_\nhallucinations, _i.e._ ones which correspond with objective events at a\ndistance, and are caused by a telepathic impact conveyed from the mind of\nan absent agent to the mind of the percipient.\n\nFrom their nature they fall under different heads. The majority of them\noccur at what may most conveniently be described as the time of death,\nthough how closely they approximate in reality to the instant of the\nGreat Change it is impossible to say. So we have divided this chapter\ninto three groups:\n\n(1) Appearances at the time of death (as explained above).\n\n(2) Appearances clearly _after_ the time of death.\n\n(3) In this third group we hope to give three curious tales of\nappearances some time _before_ death.\n\n\nGROUP I\n\nWe commence this group with stories in which the phenomena connected with\nthe respective deaths were not perceived as representations of the human\nform. In the first only sounds were heard. It is sent as a personal\nexperience by the Archdeacon of Limerick, Very Rev. J. A. Haydn, LL.D.\n\"In the year 1879 there lived in the picturesque village of Adare, at a\ndistance of about eight or nine miles from my residence, a District\nInspector named ----, with whom I enjoyed a friendship of the most\nintimate and fraternal kind. At the time I write of, Mrs. ---- was\nexpecting the arrival of their third child. She was a particularly tiny\nand fragile woman, and much anxiety was felt as to the result of the\nimpending event. He and she had very frequently spent pleasant days\nat my house, with all the apartments of which they were thoroughly\nacquainted--a fact of importance in this narrative.\n\n\"On Wednesday, October 17, 1879, I had a very jubilant letter from my\nfriend, announcing that the expected event had successfully happened on\nthe previous day, and that all was progressing satisfactorily. On the\nnight of the following Wednesday, October 22, I retired to bed at about\nten o'clock. My wife, the children, and two maid-servants were all\nsleeping upstairs, and I had a small bed in my study, which was on the\nground floor. The house was shrouded in darkness, and the only sound that\nbroke the silence was the ticking of the hall-clock.\n\n\"I was quietly preparing to go to sleep, when I was much surprised at\nhearing, with the most unquestionable distinctness, the sound of light,\nhurried footsteps, exactly suggestive of those of an active, restless\nyoung female, coming in from the hall door and traversing the hall. They\nthen, apparently with some hesitation, followed the passage leading to\nthe study door, on arriving at which they stopped. I then heard the sound\nof a light, agitated hand apparently searching for the handle of the\ndoor. By this time, being quite sure that my wife had come down and\nwanted to speak to me, I sat up in bed, and called to her by name, asking\nwhat was the matter. As there was no reply, and the sounds had ceased, I\nstruck a match, lighted a candle, and opened the door. No one was visible\nor audible. I went upstairs, found all the doors shut and everyone\nasleep. Greatly puzzled, I returned to the study and went to bed, leaving\nthe candle alight. Immediately the whole performance was circumstantially\nrepeated, but _this_ time the handle of the door was grasped by the\ninvisible hand, and _partly_ turned, then relinquished. I started out of\nbed and renewed my previous search, with equally futile results. The\nclock struck eleven, and from that time all disturbances ceased.\n\n\"On Friday morning I received a letter stating that Mrs. ---- had died at\nabout midnight on the previous Wednesday. I hastened off to Adare and had\nan interview with my bereaved friend. With one item of our conversation I\nwill close. He told me that his wife sank rapidly on Wednesday, until\nwhen night came on she became delirious. She spoke incoherently, as if\nrevisiting scenes and places once familiar. 'She thought she was in\n_your_ house,' he said, 'and was apparently holding a conversation with\n_you_, as she used to keep silence at intervals as if listening to your\nreplies.' I asked him if he could possibly remember the hour at which\nthe imaginary conversation took place. He replied that, curiously enough,\nhe could tell it accurately, as he had looked at his watch, and found the\ntime between half-past ten and eleven o'clock--the exact time of the\nmysterious manifestations heard by me.\"\n\nA lady sends the following personal experience: \"I had a cousin in the\ncountry who was not very strong, and on one occasion she desired me to go\nto her, and accompany her to K----. I consented to do so, and arranged a\nday to go and meet her: this was in the month of February. The evening\nbefore I was to go, I was sitting by the fire in my small parlour about\n5 P.M. There was no light in the room except what proceeded from the\nfire. Beside the fireplace was an armchair, where my cousin usually sat\nwhen she was with me. Suddenly that chair was illuminated by a light\nso intensely bright that it actually seemed to _heave_ under it, though\nthe remainder of the room remained in semi-darkness. I called out in\namazement, 'What has happened to the chair?' In a moment the light\nvanished, and the chair was as before. In the morning I heard that my\ncousin had died about the same time that I saw the light.\"\n\nWe now come to the ordinary type, _i.e._ where a figure appears. The\nfollowing tale illustrates a point we have already alluded to, namely,\nthat the apparition is sometimes seen by a disinterested person, and\n_not_ by those whom one would naturally expect should see it. A lady\nwrites as follows: \"At Island Magee is the Knowehead Lonan, a long,\nhilly, narrow road, bordered on either side by high thorn-hedges and\nfields. Twenty years ago, when I was a young girl, I used to go to the\npost-office at the Knowehead on Sunday mornings down the Lonan, taking\nthe dogs for the run. One Sunday as I had got to the top of the hill\non my return journey, I looked back, and saw a man walking rapidly after\nme, but still a good way off. I hastened my steps, for the day was muddy,\nand I did not want him to see me in a bedraggled state. But he seemed to\ncome on so fast as to be soon close behind me, and I wondered he did not\npass me, so on we went, I never turning to look back. About a quarter of\na mile farther on I met A. B. on 'Dick's Brae,' on her way to church or\nSunday school, and stopped to speak to her. I wanted to ask who the man\nwas, but he seemed to be so close that I did not like to do so, and\nexpected he had passed. When I moved on, I was surprised to find he was\nstill following me, while my dogs were lagging behind with downcast heads\nand drooping tails.\n\n\"I then passed a cottage where C. D. was out feeding her fowls. I spoke\nto her, and then feeling that there was no longer anyone behind, looked\nback, and saw the man standing with her. I would not have paid any\nattention to the matter had not A. B. been down at our house that\nafternoon, and I casually asked her:\n\n\"'Who was the man who was just behind me when I met you on Dick's Brae?'\n\n\"'What man?' said she; and noting my look of utter astonishment, added,\n'I give you my word I never met a soul but yourself from the time I left\nhome till I went down to Knowehead Lonan.'\n\n\"Next day C. D. came to work for us, and I asked her who was the man who\nwas standing beside her after I passed her on Sunday.\n\n\"'Naebody!' she replied,' I saw naebody but yoursel'.'\n\n\"It all seemed very strange, and so they thought too. About three weeks\nlater news came that C. D.'s only brother, a sailor, was washed overboard\nthat Sunday morning.\"\n\nThe following story is not a first-hand experience, but is sent by the\ngentleman to whom it was related by the percipient. The latter said to\nhim:\n\n\"I was sitting in this same chair I am in at present one evening, when I\nheard a knock at the front door. I went myself to see who was there, and\non opening the door saw my old friend P. Q. standing outside with his gun\nin his hand. I was surprised at seeing him, but asked him to come in and\nhave something. He came inside the porch into the lamplight, and stood\nthere for a few moments; then he muttered something about being sorry he\nhad disturbed me, and that he was on his way to see his brother, Colonel\nQ., who lived about a mile farther on. Without any further explanation he\nwalked away towards the gate into the dusk.\n\n\"I was greatly surprised and perplexed, but as he had gone I sat down\nagain by the fire. About an hour later another knock came to the door,\nand I again went out to see who was there. On opening it I found P. Q.'s\ngroom holding a horse, and he asked me where he was, as he had missed his\nway in the dark, and did not know the locality. I told him, and then\nasked him where he was going, and why, and he replied that his master was\ndead (at his own house about nine miles away), and that he had been sent\nto announce the news to Colonel Q.\"\n\nMiss Grene, of Grene Park, Co. Tipperary, relates a story which was told\nher by the late Miss ----, sister of a former Dean of Cashel. The latter,\nan old lady, stated that one time she was staying with a friend in a\nhouse in the suburbs of Dublin. In front of the house was the usual grass\nplot, divided into two by a short gravel path which led down to a gate\nwhich opened on to the street. She and her friend were one day engaged in\nneedlework in one of the front rooms, when they heard the gate opening,\nand on looking out the window they saw an elderly gentleman of their\nacquaintance coming up the path. As he approached the door both\nexclaimed: \"Oh, how good of him to come and see us!\" As he was not shown\ninto the sitting-room, one of them rang the bell, and said to the maid\nwhen she appeared, \"You have not let Mr. So-and-so in; he is at the door\nfor some little time.\" The maid went to the hall door, and returned to\nsay that there was no one there. Next day they learnt that he had died\njust at the hour that they had seen him coming up the path.\n\nThe following tale contains a curious point. A good many years ago the\nRev. Henry Morton, now dead, held a curacy in Ireland. He had to pass\nthrough the graveyard when leaving his house to visit the parishioners.\nOne beautiful moonlight night he was sent for to visit a sick person, and\nwas accompanied by his brother, a medical man, who was staying with him.\nAfter performing the religious duty they returned through the churchyard,\nand were chatting about various matters when to their astonishment a\nfigure passed them, both seeing it. This figure left the path, and went\nin among the gravestones, and then disappeared. They could not understand\nthis at all, so they went to the spot where the disappearance took place,\nbut, needless to say, could find nobody after the most careful search.\nNext morning they heard that the person visited had died just after their\ndeparture, while the most marvellous thing of all was that the burial\ntook place at the very spot where they had seen the phantom disappear.\n\nThe Rev. D. B. Knox communicates the following: In a girls'\nboarding-school several years ago two of the boarders were sleeping\nin a large double-bedded room with two doors. About two o'clock in the\nmorning the girls were awakened by the entrance of a tall figure in\nclerical attire, the face of which they did not see. They screamed in\nfright, but the figure moved in a slow and stately manner past their\nbeds, and out the other door. It also appeared to one or two of the other\nboarders, and seemed to be looking for some one. At length it reached the\nbed of one who was evidently known to it. The girl woke up and recognised\nher father. He did not speak, but gazed for a few moments at his\ndaughter, and then vanished. Next morning a telegram was handed to her\nwhich communicated the sad news that her father had died on the previous\nevening at the hour when he appeared to her.\n\nHere is a story of a very old type. It occurred a good many years ago. A\ngentleman named Miller resided in Co. Wexford, while his friend and\nformer schoolfellow lived in the North of Ireland. This long friendship\nled them to visit at each other's houses from time to time, but for Mr.\nMiller there was a deep shadow of sorrow over these otherwise happy\nmoments, for, while he enjoyed the most enlightened religious opinions,\nhis friend was an unbeliever. The last time they were together Mr. Scott\nsaid, \"My dear friend, let us solemnly promise that whichever of us shall\ndie first shall appear to the other after death, if it be possible.\" \"Let\nit be so, if God will,\" replied Mr. Miller. One morning some time after,\nabout three o'clock, the latter was awakened by a brilliant light in his\nbedroom; he imagined that the house must be on fire, when he felt what\nseemed to be a hand laid on him, and heard his friend's voice say\ndistinctly, \"There is a God, just but terrible in His judgments,\" and all\nagain was dark. Mr. Miller at once wrote down this remarkable experience.\nTwo days later he received a letter announcing Mr. Scott's death on the\nnight, and at the hour, that he had seen the light in his room.\n\nThe above leads us on to the famous \"Beresford Ghost,\" which is generally\nregarded as holding the same position relative to Irish ghosts that Dame\nAlice Kyteler used to hold with respect to Irish witches and wizards. The\nstory is so well known, and has been published so often, that only a\nbrief allusion is necessary, with the added information that the best\nversion is to be found in Andrew Lang's _Dreams and Ghosts_, chapter\nviii. (Silver Library Edition). Lord Tyrone appeared after death one\nnight to Lady Beresford at Gill Hall, in accordance with a promise (as in\nthe last story) made in early life. He assured her that the religion as\nrevealed by Jesus Christ was the only true one (both he and Lady\nBeresford had been brought up Deists), told her that she was _enceinte_\nand would bear a son, and also foretold her second marriage, and the time\nof her death. In proof whereof he drew the bed-hangings through an iron\nhook, wrote his name in her pocket-book, and finally placed a hand cold\nas marble on her wrist, at which the sinews shrunk up. To the day of her\ndeath Lady Beresford wore a black ribbon round her wrist; this was taken\noff before her burial, and it was found the nerves were withered, and the\nsinews shrunken, as she had previously described to her children.\n\n\nGROUP II\n\nWe now come to some stories of apparitions seen some time after the hour\nof death. Canon Ross-Lewin, of Limerick, furnishes the following incident\nin his own family. \"My uncle, John Dillon Ross-Lewin, lieutenant in the\n30th Regiment, was mortally wounded at Inkerman on November 5, 1854, and\ndied on the morning of the 6th. He appeared that night to his mother, who\nwas then on a visit in Co. Limerick, intimating his death, and indicating\nwhere the wound was. The strangest part of the occurrence is, that when\nnews came later on of the casualties at Inkerman, the first account as to\nthe wound did _not_ correspond with what the apparition indicated to his\nmother, but the final account did. Mrs. Ross-Lewin was devoted to her\nson, and he was equally attached to her; she, as the widow of a field\nofficer who fought at Waterloo, would be able to comprehend the battle\nscene, and her mind at the time was centred on the events of the Crimean\nWar.\"\n\nA clergyman, who desires that all names be suppressed, sends the\nfollowing: \"In my wife's father's house a number of female servants were\nkept, of whom my wife, before she was married, was in charge. On one\noccasion the cook took ill with appendicitis, and was operated on in the\nInfirmary, where I attended her as hospital chaplain. She died, however,\nand was buried by her friends. Some days after the funeral my wife was\nstanding at a table in the kitchen which was so placed that any person\nstanding at it could see into the passage outside the kitchen, if the\ndoor happened to be open. [The narrator enclosed a rough plan which made\nthe whole story perfectly clear.] She was standing one day by herself at\nthe table, and the door was open. This was in broad daylight, about\neleven o'clock in the morning in the end of February or beginning of\nMarch. She was icing a cake, and therefore was hardly thinking of ghosts.\nSuddenly she looked up from her work, and glanced through the open\nkitchen door into the passage leading past the servants' parlour into the\ndairy. She saw quite distinctly the figure of the deceased cook pass\ntowards the dairy; she was dressed in the ordinary costume she used to\nwear in the mornings, and seemed in every respect quite normal. My wife\nwas not, at the moment, in the least shocked or surprised, but on the\ncontrary she followed, and searched in the dairy, into which she was just\nin time to see her skirts disappearing. Needless to say, nothing was\nvisible.\"\n\nCanon Courtenay Moore, M.A., Rector of Mitchelstown, contributes a\npersonal experience. \"It was about eighteen years ago--I cannot fix the\nexact date--that Samuel Penrose returned to this parish from the\nArgentine. He was getting on so well abroad that he would have remained\nthere, but his wife fell ill, and for her sake he returned to Ireland. He\nwas a carpenter by trade, and his former employer was glad to take him\ninto his service again. Sam was a very respectable man of sincere\nreligious feelings. Soon after his return he met with one or two rather\nsevere accidents, and had a strong impression that a fatal one would\nhappen him before long; and so it came to pass. A scaffolding gave way\none day, and precipitated him on to a flagged stone floor. He did not die\nimmediately, but his injuries proved fatal. He died in a Cork hospital\nsoon after his admission: I went to Cork to officiate at his funeral.\nAbout noon the next day I was standing at my hall door, and the form of\npoor Sam, the upper half of it, seemed to pass before me. He looked\npeaceful and happy--it was a momentary vision, but perfectly distinct.\nThe truncated appearance puzzled me very much, until some time after I\nread a large book by F.W.H. Myers, in which he made a scientific analysis\nand induction of such phenomena, and said that they were almost\nuniversally seen in this half-length form. I do not profess to explain\nwhat I saw: its message, if it had a message, seemed to be that poor Sam\nwas at last at rest and in peace.\"\n\nA story somewhat similar to the above was related to us, in which the\napparition seems certainly to have been sent with a definite purpose. Two\nmaiden ladies, whom we shall call Miss A. X. and Miss B. Y., lived\ntogether for a good many years. As one would naturally expect, they were\nclose friends, and had the most intimate relations with each other, both\nbeing extremely religious women. In process of time Miss B. Y. died, and\nafter death Miss A. X. formed the impression, for some unknown reason,\nthat all was not well with her friend--that, in fact, her soul was not at\nrest. This thought caused her great uneasiness and trouble of mind. One\nday she was sitting in her armchair thinking over this, and crying\nbitterly. Suddenly she saw in front of her a brilliant light, in the\nmidst of which was her friend's face, easily recognisable, but\ntransfigured, and wearing a most beatific expression. She rushed towards\nit with her arms outstretched, crying, \"Oh! B., why have you come?\" At\nthis the apparition faded away, but ever after Miss A. N. was perfectly\ntranquil in mind with respect to her friend's salvation.\n\nThis group may be brought to a conclusion by a story sent by Mr. T.\nMacFadden. It is not a personal experience, but happened to his father,\nand in an accompanying letter he states that he often heard the latter\ndescribe the incidents related therein, and that he certainly saw the\nghost.\n\n\"The island of Inishinny, which is the scene of this story, is one of the\nmost picturesque islands on the Donegal coast. With the islands of Gola\nand Inismaan it forms a perfectly natural harbour and safe anchorage for\nships during storms. About Christmas some forty or fifty years ago a\nsmall sailing-ship put into Gola Roads (as this anchorage is called)\nduring a prolonged storm, and the captain and two men had to obtain\nprovisions from Bunbeg, as, owing to their being detained so long, their\nsupply was almost exhausted. They had previously visited the island on\nseveral occasions, and made themselves at home with the people from the\nmainland who were temporarily resident upon it.\n\n\"The old bar at its best was never very safe for navigation, and this\nevening it was in its element, as with every storm it presented one\nboiling, seething mass of foam. The inhabitants of the island saw the\nfrail small boat from the ship securely inside the bar, and prophesied\nsome dire calamity should the captain and the two sailors venture to\nreturn to the ship that night. But the captain and his companions, having\nsecured sufficient provisions, decided (as far as I can remember the\nstory), even in spite of the entreaties of those on shore, to return to\nthe ship. The storm was increasing, and what with their scanty knowledge\nof the intricacies of the channel, and the darkness of the night, certain\nit was the next morning their craft was found washed ashore on the\nisland, and the body of the captain was discovered by the first man who\nmade the round of the shore looking for logs of timber, or other useful\narticles washed ashore from wrecks. The bodies of the two sailors were\nnever recovered, and word was sent immediately to the captain's wife in\nDerry, who came in a few days and gave directions for the disposal of her\nhusband's corpse.\n\n\"The island was only temporarily inhabited by a few people who had cattle\nand horses grazing there for some weeks in the year, and after this\ncatastrophe they felt peculiarly lonely, and sought refuge from their\nthoughts by all spending the evening together in one house. This\nparticular evening they were all seated round the fire having a chat,\nwhen they heard steps approaching the door. Though the approach was\nfine, soft sand, yet the steps were audible as if coming on hard ground.\nThey knew there was no one on the island save the few who were sitting\nquietly round the fire, and so in eager expectation they faced round to\nthe door. What was their _amazement_ when the door opened, and a tall,\nbroad-shouldered man appeared and filled the whole doorway--and that man\nthe captain who had been buried several days previously. He wore the\nidentical suit in which he had often visited the island and even the\n\"cheese-cutter\" cap, so common a feature of sea-faring men's apparel, was\nnot wanting. All were struck dumb with terror, and a woman who sat in a\ncorner opposite the door, exclaimed in Irish in a low voice to my father:\n\n\"'O God! Patrick, there's the captain.'\n\n\"My father, recovering from the first shock, when he saw feminine courage\nfinding expression in words, said in Irish to the apparition:\n\n\"'Come in!'\n\n\"They were so certain of the appearance that they addressed him in his\nown language, as they invariably talked Irish in the district in those\ndays. But no sooner had he uttered the invitation than the figure,\nwithout the least word or sign, moved back, and disappeared from their\nview. They rushed out, but could discover no sign of any living\nperson within the confines of the island. Such is the true account of an\naccident, by which three men lost their lives, and the ghostly sequel, in\nwhich one of them appeared to the eyes of four people, two of whom are\nyet alive, and can vouch for the accuracy of this narrative.\"\n\n\nGROUP III\n\nWe now come to the third group of this chapter, in which we shall relate\ntwo first-hand experiences of tragedies being actually witnessed some\ntime before they happened, as well as a reliable second-hand story of an\napparition being seen two days before the death occurred. The first of\nthese is sent by a lady, the percipient, who desires that her name be\nsuppressed; with it was enclosed a letter from a gentleman who stated\nthat he could testify to the truth of the following facts:\n\n\"The morning of May 18, 1902, was one of the worst that ever dawned in\nKillarney. All through the day a fierce nor'-wester raged, and huge\nwhite-crested waves, known locally as 'The O'Donoghue's white horses,'\nbeat on the shores of Lough Leane. Then followed hail-showers such as I\nhave never seen before or since. Hailstones quite as large as small\nmarbles fell with such rapidity, and seemed so hard that the glass in the\nwindows of the room in which I stood appeared to be about to break into\nfragments every moment. I remained at the window, gazing out on the\nturbulent waters of the lake. Sometimes a regular fog appeared, caused by\nthe terrible downpour of rain and the fury of the gale.\n\n\"During an occasional lull I could see the islands plainly looming in the\ndistance. In one of these clear intervals, the time being about 12.30\nP.M., five friends of mine were reading in the room in which I stood.\n'Quick! quick!' I cried. 'Is that a boat turned over?' My friends all ran\nto the windows, but could see nothing. I persisted, however, and said,\n'It is on its side, with the keel turned towards us, and it is empty.'\nStill none of my friends could see anything. I then ran out, and got one\nof the men-servants to go down to a gate, about one hundred yards nearer\nthe lake than where I stood. He had a powerful telescope, and remained\nwith great difficulty in the teeth of the storm with his glass for\nseveral minutes, but could see nothing. When he returned another man took\nhis place, but he also failed to see anything.\n\n\"I seemed so distressed that those around me kept going backwards and\nforwards to the windows, and then asked me what was the size of the boat\nI had seen. I gave them the exact size, measuring by landmarks. They then\nassured me that I must be absolutely wrong, as it was on rare occasions\nthat a 'party' boat, such as the one I described, could venture on the\nlakes on such a day. Therefore there were seven persons who thought I was\nwrong in what I had seen. I still contended that I saw the boat, the\nlength of which I described, as plainly as possible.\n\n\"The day wore on, and evening came. The incident was apparently more or\nless forgotten by all but me, until at 8 A.M. on the following morning,\nwhen the maid brought up tea, her first words were, 'Ah, miss, is it not\nterrible about the accident!' Naturally I said, 'What accident, Mary?'\nShe replied, 'There were thirteen people drowned yesterday evening out of\na four-oared boat.' That proved that the boat I had seen at 12.30 P.M.\nwas a vision foreshadowing the wreck of the boat off Darby's Garden at\n5.30 P.M. The position, shape, and size of the boat seen by me were\nidentical with the one that was lost on the evening of May 18, 1902.\"\n\nThe second story relates how a lady witnessed a vision (shall we call it)\nof a suicide a week before the terrible deed was committed. This incident\nsurely makes it clear that such cannot be looked upon as special\ninterventions of Providence, for if the lady had recognised the man, she\nmight have prevented his rash act. Mrs. MacAlpine says: \"In June 1889, I\ndrove to Castleblaney, in Co. Monaghan, to meet my sister: I expected her\nat three o'clock, but as she did not come by that train, I put up the\nhorse and went for a walk in the demesne. At length becoming tired, I sat\ndown on a rock by the edge of a lake. My attention was quite taken up\nwith the beauty of the scene before me, as it was a glorious summer's\nday. Presently I felt a cold chill creep through me, and a curious\nstiffness came over my limbs, as if I could not move, though wishing to\ndo so. I felt frightened, yet chained to the spot, and as if impelled to\nstare at the water straight before me. Gradually a black cloud seemed\nto rise, and in the midst of it I saw a tall man, in a tweed suit, jump\ninto the water, and sink. In a moment the darkness was gone, and I again\nbecame sensible of the heat and sunshine, but I was awed, and felt eerie.\nThis happened about June 25, and on July 3 a Mr.----, a bank clerk,\ncommitted suicide by drowning himself in the lake.[8]\"\n\n[Footnote 8: _Proceedings S.P.R._, x. 332.]\n\nThe following incident occurred in the United States, but, as it is\nclosely connected with this country, it will not seem out of place to\ninsert it here. It is sent by Mr. Richard Hogan as the personal\nexperience of his sister, Mrs. Mary Murnane, and is given in her own\nwords.\n\n\"On the 4th of August 1886, at 10.30 o'clock in the morning, I left my\nown house, 21 Montrose St., Philadelphia, to do some shopping. I had not\nproceeded more than fifty yards when on turning the corner of the street\nI observed my aunt approaching me within five or six yards. I was greatly\nastonished, for the last letter I had from home (Limerick) stated that\nshe was dying of consumption, but the thought occurred to me that she\nmight have recovered somewhat, and come out to Philadelphia. This opinion\nwas quickly changed as we approached each other, for our eyes met, and\nshe had the colour of one who had risen from the grave. I seemed to feel\nmy hair stand on end, for just as we were about to pass each other she\nturned her face towards me, and I gasped, 'My God, she is dead, and is\ngoing to speak to me!' but no word was spoken, and she passed on. After\nproceeding a short distance I looked back, and she continued on to\nWashington Avenue, where she disappeared from me. There was no other\nperson near at the time, and being so close, I was well able to note what\nshe wore. She held a sunshade over her head, and the clothes, hat, etc.,\nwere those I knew so well before I left Ireland. I wrote home telling\nwhat I had seen, and asking if she was dead. I received a reply saying\nshe was not dead at the date I saw her, but had been asking if a letter\nhad come from me for some days before her death. It was just two days\nbefore she actually died that I had seen her.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nBANSHEES, AND OTHER DEATH-WARNINGS\n\n\nOf all Irish ghosts, fairies, or bogles, the Banshee (sometimes called\nlocally the \"Boh[-e][-e]ntha\" or \"Bank[-e][-e]ntha\") is the best known to\nthe general public: indeed, cross-Channel visitors would class her with\npigs, potatoes, and other fauna and flora of Ireland, and would expect\nher to make manifest her presence to them as being one of the sights of\nthe country. She is a spirit with a lengthy pedigree--how lengthy no man\ncan say, as its roots go back into the dim, mysterious past. The most\nfamous Banshee of ancient times was that attached to the kingly house of\nO'Brien, Aibhill, who haunted the rock of Craglea above Killaloe, near\nthe old palace of Kincora. In A.D. 1014 was fought the battle of\nClontarf, from which the aged king, Brian Boru, knew that he would never\ncome away alive, for the previous night Aibhill had appeared to him to\ntell him of his impending fate. The Banshee's method of foretelling death\nin olden times differed from that adopted by her at the present day: now\nshe wails and wrings her hands, as a general rule, but in the old Irish\ntales she is to be found washing human heads and limbs, or bloodstained\nclothes, till the water is all dyed with human blood--this would take\nplace before a battle. So it would seem that in the course of centuries\nher attributes and characteristics have changed somewhat.\n\nVery different descriptions are given of her personal appearance.\nSometimes she is young and beautiful, sometimes old and of a fearsome\nappearance. One writer describes her as \"a tall, thin woman with\nuncovered head, and long hair that floated round her shoulders, attired\nin something which seemed either a loose white cloak, or a sheet thrown\nhastily around her, uttering piercing cries.\" Another person, a coachman,\nsaw her one evening sitting on a stile in the yard; she seemed to be a\nvery small woman, with blue eyes, long light hair, and wearing a red\ncloak. Other descriptions will be found in this chapter. By the way, it\ndoes not seem to be true that the Banshee exclusively follows families of\nIrish descent, for the last incident had reference to the death of a\nmember of a Co. Galway family English by name and origin.\n\nOne of the oldest and best-known Banshee stories is that related in the\n_Memoirs_ of Lady Fanshaw.[9] In 1642 her husband, Sir Richard, and she\nchanced to visit a friend, the head of an Irish sept, who resided in his\nancient baronial castle, surrounded with a moat. At midnight she was\nawakened by a ghastly and supernatural scream, and looking out of bed,\nbeheld in the moonlight a female face and part of the form hovering at\nthe window. The distance from the ground, as well as the circumstance\nof the moat, excluded the possibility that what she beheld was of this\nworld. The face was that of a young and rather handsome woman, but pale,\nand the hair, which was reddish, was loose and dishevelled. The dress,\nwhich Lady Fanshaw's terror did not prevent her remarking accurately,\nwas that of the ancient Irish. This apparition continued to exhibit\nitself for some time, and then vanished with two shrieks similar to that\nwhich had first excited Lady Fanshaw's attention. In the morning, with\ninfinite terror, she communicated to her host what she had witnessed,\nand found him prepared not only to credit, but to account for the\nsuperstition. \"A near relation of my family,\" said he, \"expired last\nnight in this castle. We disguised our certain expectation of the event\nfrom you, lest it should throw a cloud over the cheerful reception which\nwas your due. Now, before such an event happens in this family or castle,\nthe female spectre whom you have seen is always visible. She is believed\nto be the spirit of a woman of inferior rank, whom one of my ancestors\ndegraded himself by marrying, and whom afterwards, to expiate the\ndishonour done to his family, he caused to be drowned in the moat.\" In\nstrictness this woman could hardly be termed a Banshee. The motive for\nthe haunting is akin to that in the tale of the Scotch \"Drummer of\nCortachy,\" where the spirit of the murdered man haunts the family out of\nrevenge, and appears before a death.\n\n[Footnote 9: Scott's _Lady of the Lake_, notes to Canto III (edition of\n1811).]\n\nMr. T.J. Westropp, M.A., has furnished the following story: \"My maternal\ngrandmother heard the following tradition from her mother, one of the\nMiss Ross-Lewins, who witnessed the occurrence. Their father, Mr.\nHarrison Ross-Lewin, was away in Dublin on law business, and in his\nabsence the young people went off to spend the evening with a friend who\nlived some miles away. The night was fine and lightsome as they were\nreturning, save at one point where the road ran between trees or high\nhedges not far to the west of the old church of Kilchrist. The latter,\nlike many similar ruins, was a simple oblong building, with long\nside-walls and high gables, and at that time it and its graveyard were\nunenclosed, and lay in the open fields. As the party passed down the long\ndark lane they suddenly heard in the distance loud keening and clapping\nof hands, as the country-people were accustomed to do when lamenting\nthe dead. The Ross-Lewins hurried on, and came in sight of the church, on\nthe side wall of which a little gray-haired old woman, clad in a dark\ncloak, was running to and fro, chanting and wailing, and throwing up her\narms. The girls were very frightened, but the young men ran forward and\nsurrounded the ruin, and two of them went into the church, the apparition\nvanishing from the wall as they did so. They searched every nook, and\nfound no one, nor did anyone pass out. All were now well scared, and got\nhome as fast as possible. On reaching their home their mother opened the\ndoor, and at once told them that she was in terror about their father,\nfor, as she sat looking out the window in the moonlight, a huge raven\nwith fiery eyes lit on the sill, and tapped three times on the glass.\nThey told her their story, which only added to their anxiety, and as they\nstood talking, taps came to the nearest window, and they saw the\nbird again. A few days later news reached them that Mr. Ross-Lewin had\ndied suddenly in Dublin. This occurred about 1776.\"\n\nMr. Westropp also writes that the sister of a former Roman Catholic\nBishop told his sisters that when she was a little girl she went out one\nevening with some other children for a walk. Going down the road, they\npassed the gate of the principal demesne near the town. There was a rock,\nor large stone, beside the road, on which they saw something. Going\nnearer, they perceived it to be a little dark, old woman, who began\ncrying and clapping her hands. Some of them attempted to speak to her,\nbut got frightened, and all finally ran home as quickly as they could.\nNext day the news came that the gentleman, near whose gate the Banshee\nhad cried, was dead, and it was found on inquiry that he had died at the\nvery hour at which the children had seen the spectre.\n\nA lady who is a relation of one of the compilers, and a member of a Co.\nCork family of English descent, sends the two following experiences of a\nBanshee in her family. \"My mother, when a young girl, was standing\nlooking out of the window in their house at Blackrock, near Cork. She\nsuddenly saw a white figure standing on a bridge which was easily visible\nfrom the house. The figure waved her arms towards the house, and my\nmother heard the bitter wailing of the Banshee. It lasted some seconds,\nand then the figure disappeared. Next morning my grandfather was walking\nas usual into the city of Cork. He accidentally fell, hit his head\nagainst the curbstone, and never recovered consciousness.\n\n\"In March 1900, my mother was very ill, and one evening the nurse and I\nwere with her arranging her bed. We suddenly heard the most extraordinary\nwailing, which seemed to come in waves round and under her bed. We\nnaturally looked everywhere to try and find the cause, but in vain. The\nnurse and I looked at one another, but made no remark, as my mother did\nnot seem to hear it. My sister was downstairs sitting with my father. She\nheard it, and thought some terrible thing had happened to her little boy,\nwho was in bed upstairs. She rushed up, and found him sleeping quietly.\nMy father did not hear it. In the house next door they heard it, and ran\ndownstairs, thinking something had happened to the servant; but the\nlatter at once said to them, 'Did you hear the Banshee? Mrs. P---- must\nbe dying.'\"\n\nA few years ago (_i.e._ before 1894) a curious incident occurred in a\npublic school in connection with the belief in the Banshee. One of the\nboys, happening to become ill, was at once placed in a room by himself,\nwhere he used to sit all day. On one occasion, as he was being visited by\nthe doctor, he suddenly started up from his seat, and affirmed that he\nheard somebody crying. The doctor, of course, who could hear or see\nnothing, came to the conclusion that the illness had slightly affected\nhis brain. However, the boy, who appeared quite sensible, still persisted\nthat he heard someone crying, and furthermore said, \"It is the Banshee,\nas I have heard it before.\" The following morning the head-master\nreceived a telegram saying that the boy's brother had been accidentally\nshot dead.[10]\n\n[Footnote 10: A.G. Bradley, _Notes on some Irish Superstitions_, p. 9.]\n\nThat the Banshee is not confined within the geographical limits of\nIreland, but that she can follow the fortunes of a family abroad, and\nthere foretell their death, is clearly shewn by the following story. A\nparty of visitors were gathered together on the deck of a private yacht\non one of the Italian lakes, and during a lull in the conversation one of\nthem, a Colonel, said to the owner, \"Count, who's that queer-looking\nwoman you have on board?\" The Count replied that there was nobody except\nthe ladies present, and the stewardess, but the speaker protested that he\nwas correct, and suddenly, with a scream of horror, he placed his hands\nbefore his eyes, and exclaimed, \"Oh, my God, what a face!\" For some\ntime he was overcome with terror, and at length reluctantly looked up,\nand cried:\n\n\"Thank Heavens, it's gone!\"\n\n\"What was it?\" asked the Count.\n\n\"Nothing human,\" replied the Colonel--\"nothing belonging to this world.\nIt was a woman of no earthly type, with a queer-shaped, gleaming face, a\nmass of red hair, and eyes that would have been beautiful but for their\nexpression, which was hellish. She had on a green hood, after the fashion\nof an Irish peasant.\"\n\nAn American lady present suggested that the description tallied with that\nof the Banshee, upon which the Count said:\n\n\"I am an O'Neill--at least I am descended from one. My family name is, as\nyou know, Neilsini, which, little more than a century ago, was O'Neill.\nMy great-grandfather served in the Irish Brigade, and on its dissolution\nat the time of the French Revolution had the good fortune to escape the\ngeneral massacre of officers, and in company with an O'Brien and a\nMaguire fled across the frontier and settled in Italy. On his death his\nson, who had been born in Italy, and was far more Italian than Irish,\nchanged his name to Neilsini, by which name the family has been known\never since. But for all that we are Irish.\"\n\n\"The Banshee was yours, then!\" ejaculated the Colonel. \"What exactly does\nit mean?\"\n\n\"It means,\" the Count replied solemnly, \"the death of some one very\nnearly associated with me. Pray Heaven it is not my wife or daughter.\"\n\nOn that score, however, his anxiety was speedily removed, for within two\nhours he was seized with a violent attack of angina pectoris, and died\nbefore morning.[11]\n\n[Footnote 11: _Occult Review_ for September, 1913.]\n\nMr. Elliott O'Donnell, to whose article on \"Banshees\" we are indebted for\nthe above, adds: \"The Banshee never manifests itself to the person whose\ndeath it is prognosticating. Other people may see or hear it, but the\nfated one never, so that when everyone present is aware of it but one,\nthe fate of that one may be regarded as pretty well certain.\"\n\nWe must now pass on from the subject of Banshees to the kindred one of\n\"Headless Coaches,\" the belief in which is widespread through the\ncountry. Apparently these dread vehicles must be distinguished from\nthe phantom coaches, of which numerous circumstantial tales are also\ntold. The first are harbingers of death, and in this connection are very\noften attached to certain families; the latter appear to be spectral\nphenomena pure and simple, whose appearance does not necessarily portend\nevil or death.\n\n\"At a house in Co. Limerick,\" writes Mr. T.J. Westropp, \"occurred the\nremarkably-attested apparition of the headless coach in June 1806, when\nMr. Ralph Westropp, my great-grandfather, lay dying. The story was told\nby his sons, John, William, and Ralph, to their respective children, who\ntold it to me. They had sent for the doctor, and were awaiting his\narrival in the dusk. As they sat on the steps they suddenly heard a heavy\nrumbling, and saw a huge dark coach drive into the paved court before\nthe door. One of them went down to meet the doctor, but the coach swept\npast him, and drove down the avenue, which went straight between the\nfences and hedges to a gate. Two of the young men ran after the coach,\nwhich they could hear rumbling before them, and suddenly came full tilt\nagainst the avenue gate. The noise had stopped, and they were surprised\nat not finding the carriage. The gate proved to be locked, and when they\nat last awoke the lodge-keeper, he showed them the keys under\nhis pillow; the doctor arrived a little later, but could do nothing, and\nthe sick man died a few hours afterwards.\"\n\nTwo other good stories come from Co. Clare. One night in April 1821, two\nservants were sitting up to receive a son of the family, Cornelius\nO'Callaghan, who had travelled in vain for his health, and was returning\nhome. One of them, Halloran, said that the heavy rumble of a coach roused\nthem. The other servant, Burke, stood on the top of the long flight of\nsteps with a lamp, and sent Halloran down to open the carriage door. He\nreached out his hand to do so, saw a skeleton looking out, gave one yell,\nand fell in a heap. When the badly-scared Burke picked himself up there\nwas no sign or sound of any coach. A little later the invalid arrived, so\nexhausted that he died suddenly in the early morning.\n\nOn the night of December 11, 1876, a servant of the MacNamaras was going\nhis rounds at Ennistymon, a beautiful spot in a wooded glen, with a broad\nstream falling in a series of cascades. In the dark he heard the rumbling\nof wheels on the back avenue, and, knowing from the hour and place that\nno mortal vehicle could be coming, concluded that it was the death coach,\nand ran on, opening the gates before it. He had just time to open the\nthird gate, and throw himself on his face beside it, when he heard a\ncoach go clanking past. On the following day Admiral Sir Burton Macnamara\ndied in London.\n\nMr. Westropp informs us that at sight or sound of this coach all gates\nshould be thrown open, and then it will not stop at the house to call for\na member of the family, but will only foretell the death of some relative\nat a distance. We hope our readers will carefully bear in mind this\nsimple method of averting fate.\n\nWe may conclude this chapter with some account of strange and varied\ndeath-warnings, which are attached to certain families and foretell the\ncoming of the King of Terrors.\n\nIn a Co. Wicklow family a death is preceded by the appearance of a\nspectre; the doors of the sitting-room open and a lady dressed in white\nsatin walks across the room and hall. Before any member of a certain\nQueen's Co. family died a looking-glass was broken; while in a branch of\nthat family the portent was the opening and shutting of the avenue gate.\nIn another Queen's Co. family approaching death was heralded by the cry\nof the cuckoo, no matter at what season of the year it might occur. A\nMrs. F---- and her son lived near Clonaslee. One day, in mid-winter,\ntheir servant heard a cuckoo; they went out for a drive, the trap jolted\nover a stone, throwing Mrs. F---- out, and breaking her neck. The ringing\nof all the house-bells is another portent which seems to be attached to\nseveral families. In another the aeolian harp is heard at or before\ndeath; an account of this was given to the present writer by a clergyman,\nwho declares that he heard it in the middle of the night when one of his\nrelatives passed away. A death-warning in the shape of a white owl\nfollows the Westropp family. This last appeared, it is said, before a\ndeath in 1909, but, as Mr. T. J. Westropp remarks, it would be more\nconvincing if it appeared at places where the white owl does _not_ nest\nand fly out every night. No doubt this list might be drawn out to much\ngreater length.\n\nA lady correspondent states that her cousin, a Sir Patrick Dun's\nnurse, was attending a case in the town of Wicklow. Her patient was\na middle-aged woman, the wife of a well-to-do shopkeeper. One evening the\nnurse was at her tea in the dining-room beneath the sick-room, when\nsuddenly she heard a tremendous crash overhead. Fearing her patient had\nfallen out of bed, she hurried upstairs, to find her dozing quietly, and\nthere was not the least sign of any disturbance. A member of the family,\nto whom she related this, told her calmly that that noise was always\nheard in their house before the death of any of them, and that it was a\nsure sign that the invalid would not recover. Contrary to the nurse's\nexpectations, she died the following day.\n\nKnocking on the door is another species of death-warning. The Rev.\nD. B. Knox writes: \"On the evening before the wife of a clerical friend\nof mine died, the knocker of the hall-door was loudly rapped. All in\nthe room heard it. The door was opened, but there was no one there.\nAgain the knocker was heard, but no one was to be seen when the door\nwas again opened. A young man, brother of the dying woman, went into\nthe drawing-room, and looked through one of the drawing-room windows.\nThe full light of the moon fell on the door, and as he looked the knocker\nwas again lifted and loudly rapped.\"\n\nThe following portent occurs in a Co. Cork family. At one time the lady\nof the house lay ill, and her two daughters were aroused one night by\nscreams proceeding from their mother's room. They rushed in, and found\nher sitting up in bed, staring at some object unseen to them, but which,\nfrom the motion of her eyes, appeared to be moving across the floor. When\nshe became calm she told them, what they had not known before, that\nmembers of the family were sometimes warned of the death, or approaching\ndeath, of some other member by the appearance of a ball of fire, which\nwould pass slowly through the room; this phenomenon she had just\nwitnessed. A day or two afterwards the mother heard of the death of her\nbrother, who lived in the Colonies.\n\nA strange appearance, known as the \"Scanlan Lights,\" is connected with\nthe family of Scanlan of Ballyknockane, Co. Limerick, and is seen\nfrequently at the death of a member. The traditional origin of the lights\nis connected with a well-known Irish legend, which we give here briefly.\nScanlan Mor (died A.D. 640), King of Ossory, from whom the family claim\ndescent, was suspected of disaffection by Aedh mac Ainmire, Ard-Righ of\nIreland, who cast him into prison, and loaded him with fetters. When St.\nColumcille attended the Synod of Drom Ceat, he besought Aedh to free his\ncaptive, but the Ard-Righ churlishly refused; whereupon Columcille\ndeclared that he should be freed, and that that very night he should\nunloose his (the Saint's) brogues. Columcille went away, and that night a\nbright pillar of fire appeared in the air, and hung over the house where\nScanlan was imprisoned. A beam of light darted into the room where he\nlay, and a voice called to him, bidding him rise, and shake off his\nfetters. In amazement he did so, and was led out past his guards by an\nangel. He made his way to Columcille, with whom he was to continue that\nnight, and as the Saint stooped down to unloose his brogues Scanlan\nanticipated him, as he had prophesied.[12]\n\n[Footnote 12: Canon Carrigan, in his _History of the Diocese of Ossory_\n(I. 32 intro.), shows that this legend should rather be connected\nwith Scanlan son of Ceannfaeladh.]\n\nSuch appears to be the traditional origin of the \"Scanlan lights.\" Our\ncorrespondent adds: \"These are always seen at the demise of a member of\nthe family. We have ascertained that by the present head of the family\n(Scanlan of Ballyknockane) they were seen, first, as a pillar of fire\nwith radiated crown at the top; and secondly, inside the house, by the\nroom being lighted up brightly in the night. By other members of the\nfamily now living these lights have been seen in the shape of balls of\nfire of various sizes.\" The above was copied from a private manuscript\nwritten some few years ago. Our correspondent further states: \"I also\nhave met with four persons in this county [Limerick] who have seen the\nlights on Knockfierna near Ballyknockane before the death of a Scanlan,\none of the four being the late head of the family and owner, William\nScanlan, J.P., who saw the flames on the hill-side on the day of his\naunt's death some years ago. The last occasion was as late as 1913, on\nthe eve of the death of a Scanlan related to the present owner of\nBallyknockane.\"\n\nIn front of the residence of the G---- family in Co. Galway there is, or\nformerly was, a round ring of grass surrounded by a low evergreen hedge.\nThe lady who related this story to our informant stated that one evening\ndinner was kept waiting for Mr. G----, who was absent in town on some\nbusiness. She went out on the hall-door steps in order to see if the\nfamiliar trot of the carriage horses could be heard coming down the road.\nIt was a bright moonlight night, and as she stood there she heard a child\ncrying with a peculiar whining cry, and distinctly saw a small childlike\nfigure running round and round the grass ring inside the evergreen hedge,\nand casting a shadow in the moonlight. Going into the house she casually\nmentioned this as a peculiar circumstance to Mrs. G----, upon which, to\nher great surprise, that lady nearly fainted, and got into a terrible\nstate of nervousness. Recovering a little, she told her that this crying\nand figure were always heard and seen whenever any member met with an\naccident, or before a death. A messenger was immediately sent to meet Mr.\nG----, who was found lying senseless on the road, as the horses had taken\nfright and bolted, flinging him out, and breaking the carriage-pole.\n\nBut of all the death-warnings in connection with Irish families surely\nthe strangest is the Gormanstown foxes. The crest of that noble family is\na running fox, while the same animal also forms one of the supporters of\nthe coat-of-arms. The story is, that when the head of the house is dying\nthe foxes--not spectral foxes, but creatures of flesh and blood--leave\nthe coverts and congregate at Gormanstown Castle.\n\nLet us see what proof there is of this. When Jenico, the 12th Viscount,\nwas dying in 1860, foxes were seen about the house and moving towards the\nhouse for some days previously. Just before his death three foxes were\nplaying about and making a noise close to the house, and just in front of\nthe \"cloisters,\" which are yew-trees planted and trained in that shape.\nThe Hon. Mrs. Farrell states as regards the same that the foxes came in\npairs into the demesne, and sat under the Viscount's bedroom window, and\nbarked and howled all night. Next morning they were to be found crouching\nabout in the grass in front and around the house. They walked through\nthe poultry and never touched them. After the funeral they disappeared.\n\nAt the death of Edward, the 13th Viscount, in 1876, the foxes were also\nthere. He had been rather better one day, but the foxes appeared, barking\nunder the window, and he died that night contrary to expectation.\n\nOn October 28, 1907, Jenico, the 14th Viscount, died in Dublin. About 8\no'clock that night the coachman and gardener saw two foxes near the\nchapel (close to the house), five or six more round the front of the\nhouse, and several crying in the \"cloisters.\" Two days later the Hon.\nRichard Preston, R.F.A., was watching by his father's body in the above\nchapel. About 3 A.M. he became conscious of a slight noise, which seemed\nto be that of a number of people walking stealthily around the chapel on\nthe gravel walk. He went to the side door, listened, and heard outside\na continuous and insistent snuffling or sniffing noise, accompanied by\nwhimperings and scratchings at the door. On opening it he saw a\nfull-grown fox sitting on the path within four feet of him. Just in the\nshadow was another, while he could hear several more moving close by in\nthe darkness. He then went to the end door, opposite the altar, and on\nopening it saw two more foxes, one so close that he could have touched it\nwith his foot. On shutting the door the noise continued till 5 A.M., when\nit suddenly ceased.[13]\n\n[Footnote 13: _New Ireland Review_ for April 1908, by permission of\nthe publishers, Messrs Sealy Bryers, & Walker.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nMISCELLANEOUS SUPERNORMAL EXPERIENCES\n\n\nThe matter in this chapter does not seem, strictly speaking, to come\nunder the head of any of the preceding ones: it contains no account of\nhouses or places permanently haunted, or of warnings of impending death.\nRather we have gathered up in it a number of tales relative to the\nappearance of the \"wraiths\" of living men, or accounts of visions,\nstrange apparitions, or extraordinary experiences; some few of these\nhave a purpose, while the majority are strangely aimless and\npurposeless--something is seen or heard, that is all, and no results,\ngood or bad, follow.\n\nWe commence with one which, however, certainly indicates a purpose which\nwas fulfilled. It is the experience of Mrs. Seymour, wife to one of the\ncompilers. When she was a little girl she resided in Dublin; amongst the\nmembers of the family was her paternal grandmother. This old lady was not\nas kind as she might have been to her grand-daughter, and consequently\nthe latter was somewhat afraid of her. In process of time the grandmother\ndied. Mrs. Seymour, who was then about eight years of age, had to pass\nthe door of the room where the death occurred in order to reach her own\nbedroom, which was a flight higher up. Past this door the child used to\nfly in terror with all possible speed. On one occasion, however, as she\nwas preparing to make the usual rush past, she distinctly felt a hand\nplaced on her shoulder, and became conscious of a voice saying, \"Don't be\nafraid, Mary!\" From that day on the child never had the least feeling of\nfear, and always walked quietly past the door.\n\nThe Rev. D. B. Knox sends a curious personal experience, which was shared\nby him with three other people. He writes as follows: \"Not very long ago\nmy wife and I were preparing to retire for the night. A niece, who was in\nthe house, was in her bedroom and the door was open. The maid had just\ngone to her room. All four of us distinctly heard the heavy step of a\nman walking along the corridor, apparently in the direction of the\nbathroom. We searched the whole house immediately, but no one was\ndiscovered. Nothing untoward happened except the death of the maid's\nmother about a fortnight later. It was a detached house, so that the\nnoise could not have been made by the neighbours.\"\n\nIn the following tale the \"double\" or \"wraith\" of a living man was seen\nby three different people, one of whom, our correspondent, saw it through\na telescope. She writes: \"In May 1883 the parish of A---- was vacant, so\nMr. D----, the Diocesan Curate, used to come out to take service on\nSundays. One day there were two funerals to be taken, the one at a\ngraveyard some distance off, the other at A---- churchyard. My brother\nwas at both, the far-off one being taken the first. The house we then\nlived in looked down towards A---- churchyard, which was about a quarter\nof a mile away. From an upper window my sister and I saw _two_ surpliced\nfigures going out to meet the coffin, and said, 'Why, there are two\nclergy!' having supposed that there would be only Mr. D----. I, being\nshort-sighted, used a telescope, and saw the two surplices showing\nbetween the people. But when my brother returned he said, 'A strange\nthing has happened. Mr. D---- and Mr. W----(curate of a neighbouring\nparish) took the far-off funeral. I saw them both again at A----, but\nwhen I went into the vestry I only saw Mr. W----. I asked where Mr.\nD---- was, and he replied that he had left immediately after the first\nfuneral, as he had to go to Kilkenny, and that he (Mr. W----) had come on\n_alone_ to take the funeral at A----.'\"\n\nHere is a curious tale from the city of Limerick of a lady's \"double\"\nbeing seen, with no consequent results. It is sent by Mr. Richard Hogan\nas the personal experience of his sister, Mrs. Mary Murnane. On Saturday,\nOctober 25, 1913, at half-past four o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Hogan\nleft the house in order to purchase some cigarettes. A quarter of an hour\nafterwards Mrs. Murnane went down the town to do some business. As she\nwas walking down George Street she saw a group of four persons standing\non the pavement engaged in conversation. They were: her brother, a Mr.\nO'S----, and two ladies, a Miss P. O'D----, and her sister, Miss M.\nO'D----. She recognised the latter, as her face was partly turned towards\nher, and noted that she was dressed in a knitted coat, and light blue\nhat, while in her left hand she held a bag or purse; the other lady's\nback was turned towards her. As Mrs. Murnane was in a hurry to get her\nbusiness done she determined to pass them by without being noticed, but a\nnumber of people coming in the opposite direction blocked the way, and\ncompelled her to walk quite close to the group of four; but they were so\nintent on listening to what one lady was saying that they took no notice\nof her. The speaker appeared to be Miss M. O'D----, and, though Mrs.\nMurnane did not actually hear her _speak_ as she passed her, yet from\ntheir attitudes the other three seemed to be listening to what she was\nsaying, and she heard her _laugh_ when right behind her--not the laugh of\nher sister P.--and the laugh was repeated after she had left the group a\nlittle behind.\n\nSo far there is nothing out of the common. When Mrs. Murnane returned to\nher house about an hour later she found her brother Richard there before\nher. She casually mentioned to him how she had passed him and his three\ncompanions on the pavement. To which he replied that she was quite\ncorrect except in one point, namely that there were only _three_ in the\ngroup, as M. O'D---- _was not present_ as she had not come to Limerick at\nall that day. She then described to him the exact position each one of\nthe four occupied, and the clothes worn by them; to all of which facts he\nassented, except as to the presence of Miss M. O'D----. Mrs. Murnane\nadds, \"That is all I can say in the matter, but most certainly the fourth\nperson was in the group, as I both saw and heard her. She wore the same\nclothes I had seen on her previously, with the exception of the hat;\nbut the following Saturday she had on the same coloured hat I had seen on\nher the previous Saturday. When I told her about it she was as much\nmystified as I was and am. My brother stated that there was no laugh from\nany of the three present.\"\n\nMrs. G. Kelly sends an experience of a \"wraith,\" which seems in some\nmysterious way to have been conjured up in her mind by the description\nshe had heard, and then externalised. She writes: \"About four years ago a\nmusical friend of ours was staying in the house. He and my husband\nwere playing and singing Dvorak's _Spectre's Bride_, a work which he had\nstudied with the composer himself. This music appealed very much to both,\nand they were excited and enthusiastic over it. Our friend was giving\nmany personal reminiscences of Dvorak, and his method of explaining the\nway he wanted his work done. I was sitting by, an interested listener,\nfor some time. On getting up at last, and going into the drawing-room,\nI was startled and somewhat frightened to find a man standing there in a\nshadowy part of the room. I saw him distinctly, and could describe his\nappearance accurately. I called out, and the two men ran in, but as\nthe apparition only lasted for a second, they were too late. I described\nthe man whom I had seen, whereupon our friend exclaimed, 'Why, that was\nDvorak himself!' At that time I had never seen a picture of Dvorak, but\nwhen our friend returned to London he sent me one which I recognised\nas the likeness of the man whom I had seen in our drawing-room.\"\n\nA curious vision, a case of second sight, in which a quite unimportant\nevent, previously unknown, was revealed, is sent by the percipient, who\nis a lady well known to both the compilers, and a life-long friend of one\nof them. She says: \"Last summer I sent a cow to the fair of Limerick, a\ndistance of about thirteen miles, and the men who took her there the day\nbefore the fair left her in a paddock for the night close to Limerick\ncity. I awoke up very early next morning, and was fully awake when I saw\n(not with my ordinary eyesight, but apparently _inside_ my head) a light,\nan intensely brilliant light, and in it I saw the back gate being opened\nby a red-haired woman and the cow I had supposed in the fair walking\nthrough the gate. I then knew that the cow must be home, and going to the\nyard later on I was met by the wife of the man who was in charge in a\ngreat state of excitement. 'Oh law! Miss,' she exclaimed, 'you'll be mad!\nDidn't Julia [a red-haired woman] find the cow outside the lodge gate as\nshe was going out at 4 o'clock to the milking!' That's my tale--perfectly\ntrue, and I would give a good deal to be able to control that light, and\nsee more if I could.\"\n\nAnother curious vision was seen by a lady who is also a friend of both\nthe compilers. One night she was kneeling at her bedside saying her\nprayers (hers was the only bed in the room), when suddenly she felt a\ndistinct touch on her shoulder. She turned round in the direction of the\ntouch and saw at the end of the room a bed, with a pale,\nindistinguishable figure laid therein, and what appeared to be a\nclergyman standing over it. About a week later she fell into a long and\ndangerous illness.\n\nAn account of a dream which implied an extraordinary coincidence, if\ncoincidence it be and nothing more, was sent as follows by a\ncorrespondent, who requested that no names be published. \"That which I am\nabout to relate has a peculiar interest for me, inasmuch as the central\nfigure in it was my own grand-aunt, and moreover the principal witness\n(if I may use such a term) was my father. At the period during which\nthis strange incident occurred my father was living with his aunt and\nsome other relatives.\n\n\"One morning at the breakfast-table, my grand-aunt announced that she had\nhad a most peculiar dream during the previous night. My father, who was\nalways very interested in that kind of thing, took down in his notebook\nall the particulars concerning it. They were as follows.\n\n\"My grand-aunt dreamt that she was in a cemetery, which she recognised as\nGlasnevin, and as she gazed at the memorials of the dead which lay so\nthick around, one stood out most conspicuously, and caught her eye, for\nshe saw clearly cut on the cold white stone _an inscription bearing her\nown name:_\n\nCLARE S.D--\nDied 14th of March, 1873\nDearly loved and ever mourned.\nR.I.P.\n\nwhile, to add to the peculiarity of it, the date on the stone as given\nabove was, from the day of her dream, exactly a year in advance.\n\n\"My grand-aunt was not very nervous, and soon the dream faded from her\nmind. Months rolled by, and one morning at breakfast it was noticed that\nmy grand-aunt had not appeared, but as she was a very religious woman it\nwas thought that she had gone out to church. However, as she did not\nappear my father sent someone to her room to see if she were there, and\nas no answer was given to repeated knocking the door was opened, and my\ngrand-aunt was found kneeling at her bedside, dead. The day of her death\nwas March 14, 1873, corresponding exactly with the date seen in her dream\na twelvemonth before. My grand-aunt was buried in Glasnevin, and on her\ntombstone (a white marble slab) was placed the inscription which she had\nread in her dream.\" Our correspondent sent us a photograph of the stone\nand its inscription.\n\nThe present Archdeacon of Limerick, Ven. J. A. Haydn, LL.D., sends the\nfollowing experience: \"In the year 1870 I was rector of the little rural\nparish of Chapel Russell. One autumn day the rain fell with a quiet,\nsteady, and hopeless persistence from morning to night. Wearied at length\nfrom the gloom, and tired of reading and writing, I determined to walk\nto the church about half a mile away, and pass a half-hour playing the\nharmonium, returning for the lamp-light and tea.\n\n\"I wrapped up, put the key of the church in my pocket, and started.\nArriving at the church, I walked up the straight avenue, bordered with\ngraves and tombs on either side, while the soft, steady rain quietly\npattered on the trees. When I reached the church door, before putting\nthe key in the lock, moved by some indefinable impulse, I stood on the\ndoorstep, turned round, and looked back upon the path I had just trodden.\nMy amazement may be imagined when I saw, seated on a low, tabular\ntombstone close to the avenue, a lady with her back towards me. She was\nwearing a black velvet jacket or short cape, with a narrow border of\nvivid white: her head, and luxuriant jet-black hair, were surmounted by a\nhat of the shape and make that I think used to be called at that time\na \"turban\"; it was also of black velvet, with a snow-white wing or\nfeather at the right-hand side of it. It may be seen how deliberately and\nminutely I observed the appearance, when I can thus recall it after\nmore than forty years.\n\n\"Actuated by a desire to attract the attention of the lady, and induce\nher to look towards me, I noisily inserted the key in the door, and\nsuddenly opened it with a rusty crack. Turning round to see the effect of\nmy policy--the lady was gone!--vanished! Not yet daunted, I hurried to\nthe place, which was not ten paces away, and closely searched the stone\nand the space all round it, but utterly in vain; there were absolutely no\ntraces of the late presence of a human being! I may add that nothing\nparticular or remarkable followed the singular apparition, and that I\nnever heard anything calculated to throw any light on the mystery.\"\n\nHere is a story of a ghost who knew what it wanted--and got it! \"In the\npart of Co. Wicklow from which my people come,\" writes a Miss D----,\n\"there was a family who were not exactly related, but of course of the\nclan. Many years ago a young daughter, aged about twenty, died. Before\nher death she had directed her parents to bury her in a certain\ngraveyard. But for some reason they did not do so, and from that hour she\ngave them no peace. She appeared to them at all hours, especially when\nthey went to the well for water. So distracted were they, that at length\nthey got permission to exhume the remains and have them reinterred in the\ndesired graveyard. This they did by torchlight--a weird scene truly! I\ncan vouch for the truth of this latter portion, at all events, as some of\nmy own relatives were present.\"\n\nMr. T. J. Westropp contributes a tale of a ghost of an unusual type,\n_i.e._ one which actually did communicate matters of importance to his\nfamily. \"A lady who related many ghost stories to me, also told me how,\nafter her father's death, the family could not find some papers or\nreceipts of value. One night she awoke, and heard a sound which she at\nonce recognised as the footsteps of her father, who was lame. The door\ncreaked, and she prayed that she might be able to see him. Her prayer was\ngranted: she saw him distinctly holding a yellow parchment book tied with\ntape. 'F----, child,' said he, 'this is the book your mother is looking\nfor. It is in the third drawer of the cabinet near the cross-door; tell\nyour mother to be more careful in future about business papers.'\nIncontinent he vanished, and she at once awoke her mother, in whose room\nshe was sleeping, who was very angry and ridiculed the story, but the\ngirl's earnestness at length impressed her. She got up, went to the old\ncabinet, and at once found the missing book in the third drawer.\"\n\nHere is another tale of an equally useful and obliging ghost. \"A\ngentleman, a relative of my own,\" writes a lady, \"often received warnings\nfrom his dead father of things that were about to happen. Besides the\nfarm on which he lived, he had another some miles away which adjoined a\nlarge demesne. Once in a great storm a fir-tree was blown down in the\ndemesne, and fell into his field. The woodranger came to him and told him\nhe might as well cut up the tree, and take it away. Accordingly one day\nhe set out for this purpose, taking with him two men and a cart. He got\ninto the fields by a stile, while his men went on to a gate. As he\napproached a gap between two fields he saw, standing in it, his father as\nplainly as he ever saw him in life, and beckoning him back warningly.\nUnable to understand this, he still advanced, whereupon his father looked\nvery angry, and his gestures became imperious. This induced him to turn\naway, so he sent his men home, and left the tree uncut. He subsequently\ndiscovered that a plot had been laid by the woodranger, who coveted his\nfarm, and who hoped to have him dispossessed by accusing him of stealing\nthe tree.\"\n\nA clergyman in the diocese of Clogher gave a personal experience of\ntable-turning to the present Dean of St. Patrick's, who kindly sent\nthe same to the writer. He said: \"When I was a young man, I met\nsome friends one evening, and we decided to amuse ourselves with\ntable-turning. The local dispensary was vacant at the time, so we said\nthat if the table would work we should ask who would be appointed as\nmedical officer. As we sat round it touching it with our hands it began\nto knock. We said:\n\n\"'Who are you?'\n\n\"The table spelt out the name of a Bishop of the Church of Ireland. We\nasked, thinking that the answer was absurd, as we knew him to be alive\nand well:\n\n\"'Are you dead?'\n\n\"The table answered 'Yes.'\n\n\"We laughed at this and asked:\n\n\"'Who will be appointed to the dispensary?'\n\n\"The table spelt out the name of a stranger, who was not one of the\ncandidates, whereupon we left off, thinking that the whole thing was\nnonsense.\n\n\"The next morning I saw in the papers that the Bishop in question had\ndied that afternoon about two hours before our meeting, and a few days\nafterwards I saw the name of the stranger as the new dispensary doctor. I\ngot such a shock that I determined never to have anything to do with\ntable-turning again.\"\n\nThe following extraordinary personal experience is sent by a lady, well\nknown to the present writer, but who requests that all names be omitted.\nWhatever explanation we may give of it, the good faith of the tale is\nbeyond doubt.\n\n\"Two or three months after my father-in-law's death my husband, myself,\nand three small sons lived in the west of Ireland. As my husband was a\nyoung barrister, he had to be absent from home a good deal. My three boys\nslept in my bedroom, the eldest being about four, the youngest some\nmonths. A fire was kept up every night, and with a young child to look\nafter, I was naturally awake more than once during the night. For many\nnights I believed I distinctly saw my father-in-law sitting by the\nfireside. This happened, not once or twice, but many times. He was\npassionately fond of his eldest grandson, who lay sleeping calmly in his\ncot. Being so much alone probably made me restless and uneasy, though I\nnever felt _afraid_. I mentioned this strange thing to a friend who had\nknown and liked my father-in-law, and she advised me to 'have his soul\nlaid,' as she termed it. Though I was a Protestant and she was a Roman\nCatholic (as had also been my father-in-law), yet I fell in with her\nsuggestion. She told me to give a coin to the next beggar that came to\nthe house, telling him (or her) to pray for the rest of Mr. So-and-so's\nsoul. A few days later a beggar-woman and her children came to the door,\nto whom I gave a coin and stated my desire. To my great surprise I\nlearned from her manner that such requests were not unusual. Well, she\nwent down on her knees on the steps, and prayed with apparent earnestness\nand devotion that his soul might find repose. Once again he appeared, and\nseemed to say to me, 'Why did you do that, E----? To come and sit here\nwas the only comfort I had.' Never again did he appear, and strange to\nsay, after a lapse of more than thirty years I have felt regret at my\nselfishness in interfering.\n\n\"After his death, as he lay in the house awaiting burial, and I was in a\nhouse some ten miles away, I thought that he came and told me that I\nwould have a hard life, which turned out only too truly. I was then\nyoung, and full of life, with every hope of a prosperous future.\"\n\nOf all the strange beliefs to be found in Ireland that in the Black Dog\nis the most widespread. There is hardly a parish in the country but could\ncontribute some tale relative to this spectre, though the majority of\nthese are short, and devoid of interest. There is said to be such a dog\njust outside the avenue gate of Donohill Rectory, but neither of the\ncompilers have had the good luck to see it. It may be, as some hold,\nthat this animal was originally a cloud or nature-myth; at all events, it\nhas now descended to the level of an ordinary haunting. The most\ncircumstantial story that we have met with relative to the Black Dog is\nthat related as follows by a clergyman of the Church of Ireland, who\nrequests us to refrain from publishing his name.\n\n\"In my childhood I lived in the country. My father, in addition to his\nprofessional duties, sometimes did a little farming in an amateurish sort\nof way. He did not keep a regular staff of labourers, and consequently\nwhen anything extra had to be done, such as hay-cutting or harvesting, he\nused to employ day-labourers to help with the work. At such times I used\nto enjoy being in the fields with the men, listening to their\nconversation. On one occasion I heard a labourer remark that he had once\nseen the devil! Of course I was interested and asked him to give me his\nexperience. He said he was walking along a certain road, and when he came\nto a point where there was an entrance to a private place (the spot was\nwell known to me), he saw a black dog sitting on the roadside. At the\ntime he paid no attention to it, thinking it was an ordinary retriever,\nbut after he had passed on about two or three hundred yards he found the\ndog was beside him, and then he noticed that its eyes were blood-red. He\nstooped down, and picked up some stones in order to frighten it away, but\nthough he threw the stones at it they did not injure it, nor indeed did\nthey seem to have any effect. Suddenly, after a few moments, the dog\nvanished from his sight.\n\n\"Such was the labourer's tale. After some years, during which time I had\nforgotten altogether about the man's story, some friends of my own bought\nthe place at the entrance to which the apparition had been seen. When my\nfriends went to reside there I was a constant visitor at their house.\nSoon after their arrival they began to be troubled by the appearance of a\nblack dog. Though I never saw it myself, it appeared to many members of\nthe family. The avenue leading to the house was a long one, and it was\ncustomary for the dog to appear and accompany people for the greater\nportion of the way. Such an effect had this on my friends that they soon\ngave up the house, and went to live elsewhere. This was a curious\ncorroboration of the labourer's tale.\"\n\nAs we have already stated in Chapter VII, a distinction must be drawn\nbetween the so-called _Headless_ Coach, which portends death, and the\n_Phantom_ Coach, which appears to be a harmless sort of vehicle. With\nregard to the latter we give two tales below, the first of which was sent\nby a lady whose father was a clergyman, and a gold medallist of Trinity\nCollege, Dublin.\n\n\"Some years ago my family lived in Co. Down. Our house was some way out\nof a fair-sized manufacturing town, and had a short avenue which ended in\na gravel sweep in front of the hall door. One winter's evening, when my\nfather was returning from a sick call, a carriage going at a sharp pace\npassed him on the avenue. He hurried on, thinking it was some particular\nfriends, but when he reached the door no carriage was to be seen, so he\nconcluded it must have gone round to the stables. The servant who\nanswered his ring said that no visitors had been there, and he, feeling\ncertain that the girl had made some mistake, or that some one else had\nanswered the door, came into the drawing-room to make further inquiries.\nNo visitors had come, however, though those sitting in the drawing-room\nhad also heard the carriage drive up.\n\n\"My father was most positive as to what he had seen, viz. a closed\ncarriage with lamps lit; and let me say at once that he was a clergyman\nwho was known throughout the whole of the north of Ireland as a most\nlevel-headed man, and yet to the day of his death he would insist that he\nmet that carriage on our avenue.\n\n\"One day in July one of our servants was given leave to go home for the\nday, but was told she must return by a certain train. For some reason she\ndid not come by it, but by a much later one, and rushed into the kitchen\nin a most penitent frame of mind. 'I am so sorry to be late,' she told\nthe cook, 'especially as there were visitors. I suppose they stayed to\nsupper, as they were so late going away, for I met the carriage on the\navenue.' The cook thereupon told her that no one had been at the house,\nand hinted that she must have seen the ghost-carriage, a statement that\nalarmed her very much, as the story was well known in the town, and\ncar-drivers used to whip up their horses as they passed our gate, while\npedestrians refused to go at all except in numbers. We have often _heard_\nthe carriage, but these are the only two occasions on which I can\npositively assert that it was _seen_.\"\n\nThe following personal experience of the phantom coach was given to the\npresent writer by Mr. Matthias Fitzgerald, coachman to Miss Cooke, of\nCappagh House, Co. Limerick. He stated that one moonlight night he was\ndriving along the road from Askeaton to Limerick when he heard coming up\nbehind him the roll of wheels, the clatter of horses' hoofs, and the\njingling of the bits. He drew over to his own side to let this carriage\npass, but nothing passed. He then looked back, but could see nothing, the\nroad was perfectly bare and empty, though the sounds were perfectly\naudible. This continued for about a quarter of an hour or so, until he\ncame to a cross-road, down one arm of which he had to turn. As he turned\noff he heard the phantom carriage dash by rapidly along the straight\nroad. He stated that other persons had had similar experiences on the\nsame road.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nLEGENDARY AND ANCESTRAL GHOSTS\n\n\nWhatever explanations may be given of the various stories told in our\nprevious chapters, the facts as stated therein are in almost every case\nvouched for on reliable authority. We now turn to stories of a different\nkind, most of which have no evidence of any value in support of the\n_facts_, but which have been handed down from generation to generation,\nand deserve our respect, if only for their antiquity. We make no apology\nfor giving them here, for, in addition to the interesting reading they\nprovide, they also serve a useful purpose as a contrast to authenticated\nghost stories. The student of folklore will find parallels to some of\nthem in the tales of other nations.\n\nLord Walter Fitzgerald sends us the following: \"Garrett oge\" (or Gerald\nthe younger) \"Fitzgerald, 11th Earl of Kildare, died in London on the\n16th November 1585; his body was brought back to Ireland and interred in\nSt. Brigid's Cathedral, in Kildare. He was known as 'the Wizard Earl' on\naccount of his practising the black art, whereby he was enabled to\ntransform himself into other shapes, either bird or beast according to\nhis choice; so notorious was his supernatural power that he became the\nterror of the countryside.\n\n\"His wife, the Countess, had long wished to see some proof of his skill,\nand had frequently begged him to transform himself before her, but he had\nsteadily refused to do so, as he said if he did and she became afraid, he\nwould be taken from her, and she would never see him again. Still she\npersisted, and at last he said he would do as she wished on condition\nthat she should first of all undergo three trials to test her courage; to\nthis she willingly agreed. In the first trial the river Greese, which\nflows past the castle walls, at a sign from the Earl overflowed its banks\nand flooded the banqueting hall in which the Earl and Countess were\nsitting. She showed no sign of fear, and at the Earl's command the river\nreceded to its normal course. At the second trial a huge eel-like monster\nappeared, which entered by one of the windows, crawled about among the\nfurniture of the banqueting hall, and finally coiled itself round the\nbody of the Countess. Still she showed no fear, and at a nod from the\nEarl the animal uncoiled itself and disappeared. In the third test an\nintimate friend of the Countess, long since dead, entered the room, and\npassing slowly by her went out at the other end. She showed not the\nslightest sign of fear, and the Earl felt satisfied that he could place\nhis fate in her keeping, but he again warned her of his danger if she\nlost her presence of mind while he was in another shape. He then turned\nhimself into a black bird, flew about the room, and perching on the\nCountess's shoulder commenced to sing. Suddenly a black cat appeared from\nunder a chest, and made a spring at the bird; in an agony of fear for its\nsafety the Countess threw up her arms to protect it and swooned away.\nWhen she came to she was alone, the bird and the cat had disappeared, and\nshe never saw the Earl again.\"\n\nIt is said that he and his knights lie in an enchanted sleep, with their\nhorses beside them, in a cave under the Rath on the hill of Mullaghmast,\nwhich stands, as the crow flies, five miles to the north of Kilkea\nCastle. Once in seven years they are allowed to issue forth; they gallop\nround the Curragh, thence across country to Kilkea Castle, where they\nre-enter the haunted wing, and then return to the Rath of Mullaghmast.\nThe Earl is easily recognised as he is mounted on a white charger shod\nwith silver shoes; when these shoes are worn out the enchantment will be\nbroken, and he will issue forth, drive the foes of Ireland from the land,\nand reign for a seven times seven number of years over the vast estates\nof his ancestors.\n\nShortly before '98 he was seen on the Curragh by a blacksmith who was\ncrossing it in an ass-cart from Athgarvan to Kildare. A fairy blast\novertook him, and he had just time to say, \"God speed ye Gentlemen\"\nto the invisible \"Good People,\" when he heard horses galloping up behind\nhim; pulling to one side of the road he looked back and was terrified at\nseeing a troop of knights, fully armed, led by one on a white horse. The\nleader halted his men, and riding up to the blacksmith asked him to\nexamine his shoes. Almost helpless from fear he stumbled out of the\nass-cart and looked at each shoe, which was of silver, and then informed\nthe knight that all the nails were sound. The knight thanked him,\nrejoined his troop, and galloped off. The blacksmith in a half-dazed\nstate hastened on to Kildare, where he entered a public-house, ordered a\nnoggin of whisky, and drank it neat. When he had thoroughly come to\nhimself he told the men that were present what had happened to him on the\nCurragh; one old man who had listened to him said: \"By the mortial! man,\nye are after seeing 'Gerod Earla.'\" This fully explained the mystery.\nGerod Earla, or Earl Gerald, is the name by which the Wizard Earl is\nknown by the peasantry.\n\nOne other legend is told in connection with the Wizard Earl of a\nconsiderably later date. It is said that a farmer was returning from a\nfair in Athy late one evening in the direction of Ballintore, and when\npassing within view of the Rath of Mullaghmast he was astonished to see a\nbright light apparently issuing from it. Dismounting from his car he went\nto investigate. On approaching the Rath he noticed that the light was\nproceeding from a cave in which were sleeping several men in armour, with\ntheir horses beside them. He cautiously crept up to the entrance, and\nseeing that neither man nor beast stirred he grew bolder and entered the\nchamber; he then examined the saddlery on the horses, and the armour of\nthe men, and plucking up courage began slowly to draw a sword from its\nsheath; as he did so the owner's head began to rise, and he heard a voice\nin Irish say, \"Is the time yet come?\" In terror the farmer, as he shoved\nthe sword back, replied, \"It is not, your Honour,\" and then fled from the\nplace.\n\nIt is said that if the farmer had only completely unsheathed the sword\nthe enchantment would have been broken, and the Earl would have come to\nhis own again.\n\nIn 1642 Wallstown Castle, the seat of the Wall family, in County Cork,\nwas burnt down by the Cromwellian troops, and Colonel Wall, the head of\nthe family, was captured and imprisoned in Cork jail, where he died.\nOne of the defenders during the siege was a man named Henry Bennett, who\nwas killed while fighting. His ghost was often seen about the place for\nyears after his death. His dress was of a light colour, and he wore\na white hat, while in his hand he carried a pole, which he used to place\nacross the road near the Castle to stop travellers; on a polite request\nto remove the pole he would withdraw it, and laugh heartily. A caretaker\nin the place named Philip Coughlan used frequently to be visited by this\napparition. He came generally about supper time, and while Coughlan and\nhis wife were seated at table he would shove the pole through the window;\nCoughlan would beg him to go away and not interfere with a poor\nhard-worked man; the pole would then be withdrawn, with a hearty laugh\nfrom the ghost.\n\nIn the Parish Church of Ardtrea, near Cookstown, is a marble monument and\ninscription in memory of Thomas Meredith, D.D., who had been a Fellow of\nTrinity College, Dublin, and for six years rector of the parish. He died,\naccording to the words of the inscription, on 2nd May 1819, as a result\nof \"a sudden and awful visitation.\" A local legend explains this\n\"visitation,\" by stating that a ghost haunted the rectory, the visits of\nwhich had caused his family and servants to leave the house. The rector\nhad tried to shoot it but failed; then he was told to use a silver\nbullet; he did so, and next morning was found dead at his hall-door while\na hideous object like a devil made horrid noises out of any window\nthe servant man approached. This man was advised by some Roman Catholic\nneighbours to get the priest, who would \"lay\" the thing. The priest\narrived, and with the help of a jar of whisky the ghost became quite\ncivil, till the last glass in the jar, which the priest was about to\nempty out for himself, whereupon the ghost or devil made himself as thin\nand long as a Lough Neagh eel, and slipped himself into the jar to get\nthe last drops. But the priest put the cork into its place and hammered\nit in, and, making the sign of the Cross on it, he had the evil thing\nsecured. It was buried in the cellar of the rectory, where on some nights\nit can still be heard calling to be let out.\n\nA story of a phantom rat, which comes from Limerick, is only one of many\nwhich show the popular Irish belief in hauntings by various animals. Many\nyears ago, the legend runs, a young man was making frantic and\nunacceptable love to a girl. At last, one day when he was following her\nin the street, she turned on him and, pointing to a rat which some boys\nhad just killed, said, \"I'd as soon marry that rat as you.\" He took her\ncruel words so much to heart that he pined away and died. After his death\nthe girl was haunted at night by a rat, and in spite of the constant\nwatch of her mother and sisters she was more than once bitten. The priest\nwas called in and could do nothing, so she determined to emigrate. A\ncoasting vessel was about to start for Queenstown, and her friends,\ncollecting what money they could, managed to get her on board. The ship\nhad just cast off from the quay, when shouts and screams were heard up\nthe street. The crowd scattered, and a huge rat with fiery eyes galloped\ndown to the quay. It sat upon the edge screaming hate, sprang off, and\ndid not reappear. After that, we are told, the girl was never again\nhaunted.\n\nA legend of the Tirawley family relates how a former Lord Tirawley, who\nwas a very wild and reckless man, was taken from this world. One evening,\nit is said, just as the nobleman was preparing for a night's carouse, a\ncarriage drove up to his door, a stranger asked to see him and, after a\nlong private conversation, drove away as mysteriously as he had come.\nWhatever words had passed they had a wonderful effect on the gay lord,\nfor his ways were immediately changed, and he lived the life of a\nreformed man. As time went on the effect of whatever awful warning the\nmysterious visitor had given him wore off, and he began to live a life\neven more wild and reckless than before. On the anniversary of the visit\nhe was anxious and gloomy, but he tried to make light of it. The day\npassed, and at night there was high revelry in the banqueting hall.\nOutside it was wet and stormy, when just before midnight the sound of\nwheels was heard in the courtyard. All the riot stopped; the servants\nopened the door in fear and trembling: outside stood a huge dark coach\nwith four black horses. The \"fearful guest\" entered and beckoned to Lord\nTirawley, who followed him to a room off the hall. The friends, sobered\nby fear, saw through the door the stranger drawing a ship on the wall;\nthe piece of wall then detached itself and the ship grew solid, the\nstranger climbed into it, and Lord Tirawley followed without a struggle.\nThe vessel then sailed away into the night, and neither it nor its\noccupants were ever seen again.\n\nThe above tale is a good example of how a legend will rise superior to\nthe ordinary humdrum facts of life, for it strikes us at once that the\ngloomy spectre went to unnecessary trouble in constructing a ship, even\nthough the task proved so simple to his gifted hands. But the coach was\nat the door, and surely it would have been less troublesome to have used\nit.\n\nA strange legend is told of a house in the Boyne valley. It is said that\nthe occupant of the guest chamber was always wakened on the first night\nof his visit, then he would see a pale light and the shadow of a skeleton\n\"climbing the wall like a huge spider.\" It used to crawl out on to the\nceiling, and when it reached the middle would materialise into apparent\nbones, holding on by its hands and feet; it would break in pieces, and\nfirst the skull and then the other bones would fall on the floor. One\nperson had the courage to get up and try to seize a bone, but his hand\npassed through to the carpet though the heap was visible for a few\nseconds.\n\nThe following story can hardly be called _legendary_, though it may\ncertainly be termed ancestral. The writer's name is not given, but he is\ndescribed as a rector and Rural Dean in the late Established Church of\nIreland, and a Justice of the Peace for two counties. It has this added\ninterest that it was told to Queen Victoria by the Marchioness of Ely.\n\n\"Loftus Hall, in County Wexford, was built on the site of a stronghold\nerected by Raymond, one of Strongbow's followers. His descendants\nforfeited it in 1641, and the property subsequently fell into the hands\nof the Loftus family, one of whom built the house and other buildings.\nAbout the middle of the eighteenth century, there lived at Loftus Hall\nCharles Tottenham, a member of the Irish Parliament, known to fame as\n'Tottenham and his Boots,' owing to his historic ride to the Irish\ncapital in order to give the casting vote in a motion which saved \u00a380,000\nto the Irish Treasury.\n\n\"The second son, Charles Tottenham, had two daughters, Elizabeth and\nAnne, to the latter of whom our story relates. He came to live at Loftus\nHall, the old baronial residence of the family, with his second wife and\nthe two above-mentioned daughters of his first wife. Loftus Hall was an\nold rambling mansion, with no pretence to beauty: passages that led\nnowhere, large dreary rooms, small closets, various unnecessary nooks and\ncorners, panelled or wainscotted walls, and a _tapestry chamber_. Here\nresided at the time my story commences Charles Tottenham, his second wife\nand his daughter Anne: Elizabeth, his second daughter, having been\nmarried. The father was a cold austere man; the stepmother such as that\nunamiable relation is generally represented to be. What and how great\nthe state of lonely solitude and depression of mind of poor Anne must\nhave been in such a place, without neighbours or any home sympathy, may\neasily be imagined.\n\n\"One wet and stormy night, as they sat in the large drawing-room, they\nwere startled by a loud knocking at the outer gate, a most surprising\nand unusual occurrence. Presently the servant announced that a young\ngentleman on horseback was there requesting lodging and shelter. He had\nlost his way, his horse was knocked up, and he had been guided by the\nonly light which he had seen. The stranger was admitted and refreshed,\nand proved himself to be an agreeable companion and a finished\ngentleman--far too agreeable for the lone scion of the House of\nTottenham, for a sad and mournful tale follows, and one whose strange\nresults continued almost to the present day.\n\n\"Much mystery has involved the story at the present point, and in truth\nthe matter was left in such silence and obscurity, that, but for the acts\nof her who was the chief sufferer in it through several generations,\nnothing would now be known. The fact, I believe, was--which was not\nunnatural under the circumstances--that this lonely girl formed a strong\nattachment to this gallant youth chance had brought to her door, which\nwas warmly returned. The father, as was his stern nature, was obdurate,\nand the wife no solace to her as she was a step-mother. It is only an\ninstance of the refrain of the old ballad, 'He loved, and he rode away';\nhe had youth and friends, and stirring scenes, and soon forgot his\npassing attachment. Poor Anne's reason gave way.\n\n\"The fact is but too true, she became a confirmed maniac, and had to be\nconfined for the rest of her life in the tapestried chamber before\nmentioned, and in which she died. A strange legend was at once invented\nto account for this calamity: it tells how the horseman proved such an\nagreeable acquisition that he was invited to remain some days, and made\nhimself quite at home, and as they were now four in number whist was\nproposed in the evenings. The stranger, however, with Anne as his\npartner, invariably won every point; the old couple never had the\nsmallest success. One night, when poor Anne was in great delight at\nwinning so constantly, she dropped a ring on the floor, and, suddenly\ndiving under the table to recover it, was terrified to see that her\nagreeable partner had an unmistakably cloven foot. Her screams made him\naware of her discovery, and he at once vanished in a thunder-clap leaving\na brimstone smell behind him. The poor girl never recovered from the\nshock, lapsed from one fit into another, and was carried to the tapestry\nroom from which she never came forth alive.\n\n\"This story of his Satanic majesty got abroad, and many tales are told of\nhow he continued to visit and disturb the house. The noises, the\napparitions, and disturbances were innumerable, and greatly distressed\nold Charles Tottenham, his wife, and servants. It is said that they\nfinally determined to call in the services of their parish priest, a\nFather Broders, who, armed with all the exorcisms of the Church,\nsucceeded in confining the operations of the evil spirit to one room--the\ntapestry room.\n\n\"Here, then, we have traced from the date of the unhappy girl's\nmisfortune that the house was disturbed by something supernatural,\nand that the family sought the aid of the parish priest to abate it, and\nfurther that the tapestry room was the scene of this visitation.\n\n\"But the matter was kept dark, all reference to poor Anne was avoided,\nand the belief was allowed to go abroad that it was Satan himself who\ndisturbed the peace of the family. Her parents were ready to turn aside\nthe keen edge of observation from her fate, preferring rather that it\nshould be believed that they were haunted by the Devil, so that the story\nof her wrongs should sink into oblivion, and be classed as an old wives'\ntale of horns and hoofs. The harsh father and stepmother have long gone\nto the place appointed for all living. The Loftus branch of the family\nare in possession of the Hall. Yet poor Anne has kept her tapestried\nchamber by nearly the same means which compelled her parents to call in\nthe aid of the parish priest so long ago.\n\n\"But to my tale: About the end of the last century my father was invited\nby Mrs. Tottenham to meet a large party at the Hall. He rode, as was then\nthe custom in Ireland, with his pistols in his holsters. On arriving he\nfound the house full, and Mrs. Tottenham apologised to him for being\nobliged to assign to him the tapestry chamber for the night, which,\nhowever, he gladly accepted, never having heard any of the stories\nconnected with it.\n\n\"However, he had scarcely covered himself in the bed when suddenly\nsomething heavy leaped upon it, growling like a dog. The curtains were\ntorn back, and the clothes stripped from the bed. Supposing that some of\nhis companions were playing tricks, he called out that he would shoot\nthem, and seizing a pistol he fired up the chimney, lest he should wound\none of them. He then struck a light and searched the room diligently, but\nfound no sign or mark of anyone, and the door locked as he had left it on\nretiring to rest. Next day he informed his hosts how he had been annoyed,\nbut they could only say that they would not have put him in that room if\nthey had had any other to offer him.\n\n\"Years passed on, when the Marquis of Ely went to the Hall to spend some\ntime there. His valet was put to sleep in the tapestry chamber. In the\nmiddle of the night the whole family was aroused by his dreadful roars\nand screams, and he was found lying in another room in mortal terror.\nAfter some time he told them that, soon after he had lain himself down in\nbed, he was startled by the rattling of the curtains as they were torn\nback, and looking up he saw a tall lady by the bedside dressed in stiff\nbrocaded silk; whereupon he rushed out of the room screaming with terror.\n\n\"Years afterwards I was brought by my father with the rest of the family\nto the Hall for the summer bathing. Attracted by the quaint look of the\ntapestry room, I at once chose it for my bedroom, being utterly ignorant\nof the stories connected with it. For some little time nothing out of the\nway happened. One night, however, I sat up much later than usual to\nfinish an article in a magazine I was reading. The full moon was shining\nclearly in through two large windows, making all as clear as day. I was\njust about to get into bed, and, happening to glance towards the door, to\nmy great surprise I saw it open quickly and noiselessly, and as quickly\nand noiselessly shut again, while the tall figure of a lady in a stiff\ndress passed slowly through the room to one of the curious closets\nalready mentioned, which was in the opposite corner. I rubbed my eyes.\nEvery possible explanation but the true one occurred to my mind, for the\nidea of a ghost did not for a moment enter my head. I quickly reasoned\nmyself into a sound sleep and forgot the matter.\n\n\"The next night I again sat up late in my bedroom, preparing a gun and\nammunition to go and shoot sea-birds early next morning, when the door\nagain opened and shut in the same noiseless manner, and the same tall\nlady proceeded to cross the room quietly and deliberately as before\ntowards the closet. I instantly rushed at her, and threw my right arm\naround her, exclaiming 'Ha! I have you now!' To my utter astonishment my\narm passed through her and came with a thud against the bedpost, at which\nspot she then was. The figure quickened its pace, and as it passed the\nskirt of its dress lapped against the curtain and I marked distinctly the\npattern of her gown--a stiff brocaded silk.\n\n\"The ghostly solution of the problem did not yet enter my mind. However,\nI told the story at breakfast next morning. My father, who had himself\nsuffered from the lady's visit so long before, never said a word, and it\npassed as some folly of mine. So slight was the impression it made on me\nat the time that, though I slept many a night after in the room, I never\nthought of watching or looking out for anything.\n\n\"Years later I was again a guest at the Hall. The Marquis of Ely and his\nfamily, with a large retinue of servants, filled the house to\noverflowing. As I passed the housekeeper's room I heard the valet say:\n'What! I to sleep in the tapestry chamber? Never! I will leave my lord's\nservice before I sleep there!' At once my former experience in that room\nflashed upon my mind. I had never thought of it during the interval, and\nwas still utterly ignorant of Anne Tottenham: so when the housekeeper was\ngone I spoke to the valet and said, 'Tell me why you will not sleep in\nthe tapestry room, as I have a particular reason for asking.' He said,\n'Is it possible that you do not know that Miss Tottenham passes through\nthat room every night, and, dressed in a stiff flowered silk dress,\nenters the closet in the corner?' I replied that I had never heard a word\nof her till now, but that I had, a few years before, twice seen a figure\nexactly like what he had described, and passed my arm through her body.\n'Yes,' said he, 'that was Miss Tottenham, and, as is well known, she was\nconfined--mad--in that room, and died there, and, they say, was buried in\nthat closet.'\n\n\"Time wore on and another generation arose, another owner possessed the\nproperty--the grandson of my friend. In the year 185--, he being then a\nchild came with his mother, the Marchioness of Ely, and his tutor, the\nRev. Charles Dale, to the Hall for the bathing season. Mr. Dale was no\nimaginative person--a solid, steady, highly educated English clergyman,\nwho had never even heard the name of Miss Tottenham. The tapestry room\nwas his bed-chamber. One day in the late autumn of that year I received a\nletter from the uncle of the Marquis, saying, 'Do tell me what it was you\nsaw long ago in the tapestry chamber, for something strange must have\nhappened to the Rev. Charles Dale, as he came to breakfast quite\nmystified. Something very strange must have occurred, but he will not\ntell us, seems quite nervous, and, in short, is determined to give up his\ntutorship and return to England. Every year something mysterious has\nhappened to any person who slept in that room, but they always kept it\nclose. Mr. D----, a Wexford gentleman, slept there a short while ago.\nHe had a splendid dressing-case, fitted with gold and silver articles,\nwhich he left carefully locked on his table at night; in the morning he\nfound the whole of its contents scattered about the room.'\n\n\"Upon hearing this I determined to write to the Rev. Charles Dale, then\nIncumbent of a parish near Dover, telling him what had occurred to myself\nin the room, and that the evidence of supernatural appearances there were\nso strong and continued for several generations, that I was anxious to\nput them together, and I would consider it a great favour if he would\ntell me if anything had happened to him in the room, and of what nature.\nHe then for the first time mentioned the matter, and from his letter now\nbefore me I make the following extracts:\n\n\"'For three weeks I experienced no inconvenience from the lady, but one\nnight, just before we were about to leave, I had sat up very late. It was\njust one o'clock when I retired to my bedroom, a very beautiful moonlight\nnight. I locked my door, and saw that the shutters were properly\nfastened, as I did every night. I had not lain myself down more than\nabout five minutes before something jumped on the bed making a growling\nnoise; the bed-clothes were pulled off though I strongly resisted the\npull. I immediately sprang out of bed, lighted my candle, looked into the\ncloset and under the bed, but saw nothing.'\n\n\"Mr. Dale goes on to say that he endeavoured to account for it in some\nsuch way as I had formerly done, having never up to that time heard one\nword of the lady and her doings in that room. He adds, 'I did not see the\nlady or hear any noise but the growling.'\n\n\"Here then is the written testimony of a beneficed English clergyman,\noccupying the responsible position of tutor to the young Marquis of Ely,\na most sober-minded and unimpressionable man. He repeats in 1867 almost\nthe very words of my father when detailing his experience in that room in\n1790--a man of whose existence he had never been cognisant, and therefore\nutterly ignorant of Miss Tottenham's doings in that room nearly eighty\nyears before.\n\n\"In the autumn of 1868 I was again in the locality, at Dunmore, on the\nopposite side of the Waterford Estuary. I went across to see the old\nplace and what alterations Miss Tottenham had forced the proprietors to\nmake in the tapestry chamber. I found that the closet into which the poor\nlady had always vanished was taken away, the room enlarged, and two\nadditional windows put in: the old tapestry had gone and a billiard-table\noccupied the site of poor Anne's bed. I took the old housekeeper aside,\nand asked her to tell me how Miss Tottenham bore these changes in her\napartment. She looked quite frightened and most anxious to avoid the\nquestion, but at length hurriedly replied, 'Oh, Master George! don't talk\nabout her: last night she made a horrid noise knocking the billiard-balls\nabout!'\n\n\"I have thus traced with strict accuracy this most real and true\ntale, from the days of 'Tottenham and his Boots' to those of his\ngreat-great-grandson. Loftus Hall has since been wholly rebuilt, but\nI have not heard whether poor Anne Tottenham has condescended to visit\nit, or is wholly banished at last.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nMISTAKEN IDENTITY--CONCLUSION\n\n\nWe have given various instances of ghostly phenomena wherein the\nwitnesses have failed at first to realise that what they saw partook\nin any way of the abnormal. There are also many cases where a so-called\nghost has turned out to be something very ordinary. Though more often\nthan not such incidents are of a very trivial or self-explanatory\nnature (_e.g._ where a sheep in a churchyard almost paralysed a midnight\nwayfarer till he summoned up courage to investigate), there are many\nwhich have an interest of their own and which often throw into prominence\nthe extraordinary superstitions and beliefs which exist in a country.\n\nOur first story, which is sent us by Mr. De Lacy of Dublin, deals with an\nincident that occurred in the early part of last century. An epidemic\nwhich was then rife in the city was each day taking its toll of the\nunhappy citizens. The wife of a man living in Merrion Square was stricken\ndown and hastily buried in a churchyard in Donnybrook which is now\nclosed. On the night after the funeral one of the city police, or\n\"Charlies\" as they were then called, passed through the churchyard on his\nrounds. When nearing the centre he was alarmed to hear a sound coming\nfrom a grave close at hand, and turning, saw a white apparition sit up\nand address him. This was all he waited for; with a shriek he dropped his\nlantern and staff and made off as fast as his legs would carry him. The\napparition thereupon took up the lamp and staff, and walked to Merrion\nSquare to the house of mourning, was admitted by the servants, and to the\njoy of the whole household was found to be the object of their grief\nreturned, Alcestis-like, from the grave. It seems that the epidemic was\nso bad that the bodies of the victims were interred hastily and without\nmuch care: the unfortunate lady had really been in a state of coma or\ntrance, and as the grave was lightly covered, when she came to she was\nable to force her way up, and seeing the \"Charlie\" passing, she called\nfor assistance.\n\nAn occurrence which at first had all the appearance of partaking of the\nsupernormal, and which was afterwards found to have a curious\nexplanation, is related by Dean Ovenden of St. Patrick's Cathedral,\nDublin. \"At Dunluce Rectory, Co. Antrim,\" he writes, \"I had a strange\nexperience. There was a force-pump attached to the back wall of the\nhouse, and many people drew water from it, as it was better than any\nobtained at that time in Bushmills. We used to notice, when going to bed,\nthe sound of someone working the pump. All the servants denied that they\never used the pump between 11 P.M. and 12 midnight. I often looked out\nof the back window when I heard the pump going, but could not see anyone.\nI tied threads to the handle, but although they were found unbroken in\nthe morning the pumping continued, sometimes only for three or four moves\nof the handle. On many nights no pumping was heard. The man-servant sat\nup with a gun and the dog, but he neither saw nor heard anything. We gave\nit up as a bad job, and still the pumping went on. After about two years\nof this experience, I was one night alone in the house. It was a calm and\nfrosty night and I went to bed about 11.30 P.M. and lay awake; suddenly\nthe pump began to work with great clearness, and mechanically I counted\nthe strokes: they were exactly twelve. I exclaimed, 'The dining-room\nclock!' I sprang from bed and went down, and found that the clock was\nfast, as it showed two minutes past twelve o'clock. I set back the hands\nto 11.55 and lay in bed again, and soon the pumper began as usual. The\nexplanation was that the vibration of the rising and falling hammer was\ncarried up to the bedroom by the wall, but the sound of the bell was\nnever heard. I found afterwards that the nights when there was no pumping\nwere always windy.\"\n\nA man was walking along a country lane at night and as he was coming\nround a bend he saw a coffin on the road in front of him. At first he\nthought it was a warning to him that he was soon to leave this world; but\nafter some hesitation, he finally summoned up courage to give the thing a\npoke with his stick, when he found that the coffin was merely an outline\nof sea-weed which some passer-by had made. Whereupon he went on his way\nmuch relieved.\n\nThe unbeliever will state that rats or mice are more often than not the\ncause of so-called ghostly noises in a house. That, at any rate,\ninstances have happened where one or other of these rodents has given\nrise to fear and trepidation in the inmates of a house or bedroom is\nproved by the following story from a Dublin lady. She tells how she was\nawakened by a most mysterious noise for which she could give no\nexplanation. Overcome by fear, she was quite unable to get out of bed,\nand lay awake the rest of the night. When light came she got up: there\nwas a big bath in the room, and in it she found a mouse which had been\ndrowned in its efforts to get out. So her haunting was caused by what we\nmay perhaps call a ghost in the making.\n\nThe devil is very real to the average countryman in Ireland. He has given\nhis name to many spots which for some reason or other have gained some\nill-repute--the Devil's Elbow, a very nasty bit of road down in Kerry, is\nan instance in point. The following story shows how prevalent the idea is\nthat the devil is an active agent in the affairs of this world.\n\nA family living at Ardee, Co. Louth, were one night sitting reading in\nthe parlour. The two maids were amusing themselves at some card game in\nthe kitchen. Suddenly there was a great commotion and the two girls--both\nfrom the country--burst into the sitting-room, pale with fright, and\nalmost speechless. When they had recovered a certain amount, they were\nasked what was the matter; the cook immediately exclaimed, \"Oh, sir! the\ndevil, the devil, he knocked three times at the window and frightened us\ndreadfully, and we had just time to throw the cards into the fire and run\nin here before he got us.\" One of the family, on hearing this,\nimmediately went out to see what had caused all this trepidation, and\nfound a swallow with a broken neck lying on the kitchen window-sill. The\npoor bird had evidently seen the light in the room, and in its efforts to\nget near it had broken its neck against the glass of the window.\n\nAn amusing account of a pseudo-haunting comes from County Tipperary, and\nshows how extraordinarily strong is the countryman's belief in\nsupernatural phenomena. The incidents related occurred only a very short\ntime ago. A farmer in the vicinity of Thurles died leaving behind him a\nyoung widow. The latter lived alone after her husband's death, and about\nthree months after the funeral she was startled one night by loud\nknocking at the door. On opening the door she was shocked at seeing the\noutline of a man dressed in a shroud. In a solemn voice he asked her did\nshe know who he was: on receiving a reply in the negative, he said that\nhe was her late husband and that he wanted \u00a310 to get into heaven. The\nterrified woman said she had not got the money, but promised to have it\nready if he would call again the next night. The \"apparition\" agreed,\nthen withdrew, and the distracted woman went to bed wondering how she was\nto raise the money. When morning came she did not take long in telling\nher friends of her experience, in the hope that they would be able to\nhelp her. Their advice, however, was that she should tell the police,\nand she did so. That night the \"apparition\" returned at the promised\nhour, and asked for his money. The amount was handed to him, and in a low\nsepulchral voice he said, \"Now I leave this earth and go to heaven.\"\nUnfortunately, as he was leaving, a sergeant and a constable of the\nR.I. Constabulary stopped him, questioned him, and hauled him off to the\nbarracks to spend the remainder of the night in the cell, where no doubt\nhe decided that the haunting game has its trials.[14]\n\n[Footnote 14: _Evening Telegraph_ for Dec. 10, 1913.]\n\nAn occurrence of very much the same description took place in County\nClare about three years ago. Again the departed husband returns to his\nsorrowing wife, sits by the fire with her, chatting no doubt of old\ntimes, and before he leaves for the other world is regaled with pig's\nhead and plenty of whisky. The visit is repeated the next night, and a\nrequest made for money to play cards with down below: the wife willingly\ngives him the money. Again he comes, and again he borrows on the plea\nthat he had lost the night before, but hoped to get better luck next\ntime. On the woman telling a neighbour a watch was kept for the dead\nman's return, but he never came near the place again.\n\nAn account of a police-court trial which appeared in the _Irish Times_ of\n31st December 1913 emphasizes in a very marked degree the extraordinary\ngrip that superstition has over some of the country people. A young woman\nwas on her trial for stealing \u00a3300 from the brother of her employer,\nPatrick McFaul of Armagh. District Inspector Lowndes, in opening the case\nfor the Crown, told the bench that the money had been taken out of the\nbank by McFaul to buy a holding, for the purchase of which negotiations\nwere going on. The money was carelessly thrown into a drawer in a\nbedroom, and left there till it would be wanted. A short time afterwards\na fire broke out in the room, and a heap of ashes was all that was found\nin the drawer, though little else in the room besides a few clothes was\ninjured. \"The McFauls appeared to accept their loss with a complacency,\nwhich could only be accounted for by the idea they entertained that the\nmoney was destroyed through spiritual intervention--that there were\nghosts in the question, and that the destruction of the money was to be\ntaken as a warning directed against a matrimonial arrangement, into which\nMichael McFaul was about to enter.\" The accused girl was servant to\nthe McFauls, who discharged her a few days after the fire: but before\nthis she had been into Derry and spent a night there; during her stay she\ntried to change three \u00a320 notes with the help of a friend. But change was\nrefused, and she had to abandon the attempt. \"If some of the money was\nburned, some of it was certainly in existence three days later, to the\namount of \u00a360. One thing was manifest, and that was that an incredible\namount of superstition appeared to prevail amongst families in that\nneighbourhood when the loss of such a sum as this could be attributed to\nanything but larceny, and it could for a moment be suggested that it was\ndue to spiritual intervention to indicate that a certain course should\nbe abandoned.\"\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION\n\n\nThe foregoing tales have been inserted, not in order that they may throw\nridicule on the rest of the book, but that they may act as a wholesome\ncorrective. If _all_ ghost stories could be subjected to such rigid\nexamination it is probable that the mystery in many of them would be\ncapable of equally simple solution--yet a remnant would be left.\n\nAnd here, though it may seem somewhat belated, we must offer an apology\nfor the use of the terms \"ghost\" and \"ghost story.\" The book includes\nsuch different items as hauntings, death-warnings, visions, and\nhallucinations, some of which obviously can no more be attributed to\ndiscarnate spirits than can the present writer's power of guiding his pen\nalong the lines of a page; whether others of these must be laid to the\ncredit of such unseen influences is just the question. But in truth there\nwas no other expression than \"ghost stories\" which we could have used, or\nwhich could have conveyed to our readers, within reasonable verbal\nlimits, as they glanced at its cover, or at an advertisement of it, a\ngeneral idea of the contents of this book. The day will certainly come\nwhen, before the steady advance of scientific investigation, and the\nconsequent influencing of public opinion, the word \"ghost\" will be\nrelegated to limbo, and its place taken by a number of expressions\ncorresponding to the results obtained from the analysis of phenomena\nhitherto grouped under this collective title. That day is approaching.\nAnd so, though we have used the term throughout the pages of this book,\nit must not therefore be assumed that we necessarily believe in \"ghosts,\"\nor that we are bound to the theory that all, or any, of the unusual\nhappenings therein recorded are due to the action of visitants from the\nOtherworld.\n\nWe may now anticipate one or two possible points of criticism. It might\nbe alleged that the publication of such a book as this would tend to show\nthat the Irish nation was enslaved in superstition. Without stopping to\nreview the question as to what should, or should not, be classed as\n\"superstition,\" we would rejoin by gleefully pointing to a leading\narticle in the _Irish Times_ of Jan. 27, 1914, which gives a short\naccount of a lecture by Mr. Lovett on the folklore of London. Folklore in\nLondon! in the metropolis of the stolid Englishman! The fact is that the\nIrish people are not one whit more superstitious than their cross-channel\nneighbours, while they are surely on a far higher level in this respect\nthan many of the Continental nations. They _seem_ to be more\nsuperstitious because (we speak without wishing to give any offence) the\n_popular_ religion of the majority has incorporated certain elements\nwhich may be traced back to pre-Christian times; but that they _are_\nactually more superstitious we beg leave to doubt.\n\nAnother and more important series of objections is stated by one of our\ncorrespondents as follows. \"I must confess that I can never reconcile\nwith my conception of an All-Wise Creator the type of 'ghost' you are at\npresent interested in; it seems to me incredible that the spirits of the\ndeparted should be permitted to return and indulge in the ghostly\nrepertoire of jangling chains, gurgling, etc., apparently for the sole\npurpose of scaring housemaids and other timid or hysterical people.\" The\nfirst and most obvious remark on this is, that our correspondent has\nnever read or heard a ghost story, save of the Christmas magazine type,\nelse he would be aware that the above theatrical display is _not_ an\nintegral part of the \"ghostly repertoire\"; and also that persons, who are\n_not_ housemaids, and who can _not_ be classed as timid or hysterical,\nbut who, on the other hand, are exceedingly sober-minded, courageous, and\nlevel-headed, have had experiences (and been frightened by them too!)\nwhich cannot be explained on ordinary grounds. But on the main point our\ncorrespondent is begging the question, or at least assuming as fully\nproved a conclusion which is very far from being so. Is he quite sure\nthat the only explanation of these strange sights and weird noises\nis that they are brought about by the action of departed spirits (we\nnaturally exclude cases of deliberate fraud, which in reality are very\nunusual)? And if so, what meaning would he put upon the word \"spirits\"?\nAnd even if it be granted that the phenomena are caused by the\ninhabitants of another world, why should it be impossible to accept such\na theory, because of its _apparent_ incompatibility with any conception\nof an All-Wise Creator, of whose workings we are so profoundly ignorant?\nAre there not many things in the material world which _to the limited\nhuman mind_ of our correspondent must seem puzzling, meaningless,\nuseless, and even harmful? He does not therefore condemn these offhand;\nhe is content to suspend judgment, is he not? Why cannot he adopt the\nsame attitude with respect to psychic phenomena? Our correspondent might\nhere make the obvious retort that it is _we_ who are begging the\nquestion, not he, because such happenings as are described in this book\nhave no existence apart from the imaginative or inventive faculties of\ncertain persons. This would be equivalent to saying bluntly that a\nconsiderable number of people in Ireland are either liars or fools, or\nboth. This point we shall deal with later on. Our correspondent belongs\nto a type which knows nothing at all about psychical research, and is not\naware that some of the cleverest scientists and deepest thinkers of the\nday have interested themselves in such problems. They have not found the\nanswer to many of them--goodness knows if they ever will this side of the\ngrave--but at least they have helped to broaden and deepen our knowledge\nof ourselves, our surroundings, and our God. They have revealed to us\nprofundities in human personality hitherto unsuspected, they have\nsuggested means of communication between mind and mind almost incredible,\nand (in the writer's opinion at least) these points have a very important\nbearing on our conceptions of the final state of mankind in the world to\ncome, and so they are preparing the way for that finer and more ethical\nconception of God and His Creation which will be the heritage of\ngenerations yet unborn. The materialist's day is far spent, and its sun\nnears the horizon.\n\nAnother objection to the study of the subjects dealt with in this book\nis that we are designedly left in ignorance of the unseen world by a\nWise Creator, and therefore that it is grossly presumptuous, not to say\nimpious, on the part of man to make any attempt to probe into questions\nwhich he has not been intended to study. Which is equivalent to saying\nthat it is impious to ride a bicycle, because man was obviously created\na pedestrian. This might be true if we were confined within a\nself-contained world which had, and could have, no connection with\nanything external to itself. But the very essence of our existence here\nis that the material and spiritual worlds interpenetrate, or rather that\nour little planet forms part of a boundless universe teeming with life\nand intelligence, yet lying in the hollow of God's hand. He alone is\n\"Supernatural,\" and therefore Transcendent and Unknowable; all things in\nthe universe are \"natural,\" though very often they are beyond our normal\nexperience, and as such are legitimate objects for man's research. Surely\nthe potential energy in the human intellect will not allow it to remain\nat its present stage, but will continually urge it onwards and upwards.\nWhat limits God in His Providence has seen fit to put upon us we cannot\ntell, for every moment the horizon is receding, and our outlook becoming\nlarger, though some still find it difficult to bring their eyesight to\nthe focus consequently required. The marvellous of to-day is the\ncommonplace of to-morrow: \"our notion of what is natural grows with our\ngreater knowledge.\"\n\nThroughout the pages of this book we have, in general, avoided offering\nexplanations of, or theories to account for, the different stories. Here\nsomething may be said on this point. As we have already pointed out, the\nexpression \"ghost stories\" covers a multitude of different phenomena.\nMany of these may be explained as \"hallucinations,\" which does not imply\nthat they are simply the effect of imagination and nothing more. \"The\nmind receives the hallucination as if it came through the channels of\nsense, and accordingly externalises the impression, seeking its source in\nthe world outside itself, whereas in all hallucinations the source is\nwithin the mind, and is not derived from an impression received through\nthe recognised organ of sense.[15]\"\n\n[Footnote 15: Prof. Sir W. Barren, _Psychical Research_, p. 111.]\n\nMany of these hallucinations are termed \"_veridical_\", or truth-telling,\nbecause they coincide with real events occurring to another person.\nIllustrations of this will be found in Chapter VI, from which it would\nappear that a dying person (though the power is not necessarily confined\nto such) occasionally has the faculty of telepathically communicating\nwith another; the latter receives the impression, and externalises it,\nand so \"sees a ghost,\" to use the popular expression. Some hallucinations\nare _auditory i.e._ sounds are heard which apparently do not correspond\nto any objective reality. Incomprehensible though it may appear, it may\nbe possible for sounds, and very loud ones too, to be heard by one or\nmore persons, the said sounds being purely hallucinatory, and not causing\nany disturbance in the atmosphere.\n\nSome of the incidents may be explained as due to telepathy, that\nmysterious power by which mind can communicate with mind, though what\ntelepathy is, or through what medium it is propagated, no one can tell as\nyet. Belief in this force is increasing, because, as Professor Sir W.\nBarrett remarks: \"Hostility to a new idea arises largely from its being\nunrelated to existing knowledge,\" and, as telepathy seems to the ordinary\nperson to be analogous to wireless telegraphy, it is therefore accepted,\nor at least not laughed at, though how far the analogy really holds good\nis not at all certain.\n\nAgain there is the question of haunted houses and places, to accounts of\nwhich the first five chapters of this book are devoted. The actual\nevidence for many of these may not come up to the rigorous standard set\nby the S.P.R., but it is beyond all doubt that persons who are neither\nfools, liars, nor drunkards firmly believe that they have seen and heard\nthe things related in these chapters (not to speak of Chapters VI-VIII),\nor that they have been told such by those in whose statements they place\nimplicit confidence; while so certain are they that they are telling the\ntruth that they have not only written down the stories for the compilers,\nbut have given their names and addresses as well, though not always for\npublication. Can we contemptuously fling aside such a weight of evidence\nas unworthy of even a cursory examination? This would hardly be a\nrational attitude to adopt. Various theories to account for these strange\nhauntings have been formulated, which may be found on pp. 199-200 of Sir\nWilliam Barrett's _Psychical Research_, and so need not be given here.\n\nYet, when all is said and done, the very formulating of theories, so far\nfrom solving problems, only raises further and more complex ones, perhaps\nthe greatest of which is, Have the spirits of the departed anything to\ndo with the matter? As we have shown, we hope with success, in the\npreceding paragraphs, many \"ghosts\" have no necessary connection with the\ndenizens of the unseen world, but may be explained as being due to laws\nof nature which at present are very obscure. Does this hold good of all\n\"ghosts,\" or are some of them to be placed to the credit of those who\nhave passed beyond the veil, or perhaps to spirits, good or evil, which\nhave never been incarnate? That is the problem for the future, for in\nthe present state of our knowledge it would be premature to give a direct\nanswer, either positive or negative.\n\nThis book was written with a twofold purpose: first, that of entertaining\nour readers, in which we trust we have been successful; secondly, to\nstimulate thought. For, strange though it may seem, authenticated \"ghost\nstories\" have a certain educative value. Taking them at their lowest they\nsuggest inquiry into the strange workings of the human mind: at their\nhighest how many strange lines of inquiry do they not suggest? For it is\nobvious that we have now arrived at one of those interesting periods in\nthe history of human thought which might be described as the return of\nthe pendulum. We are in the process of emerging from a very materialistic\nage, when men either refused to believe anything that was contrary to\ntheir normal experience, or else leavened their spiritual doctrines and\nbeliefs with the leaven of materialism. The pendulum has swung to its\nhighest point in this respect, and is now commencing to return, so\nperhaps the intellectual danger of the future will be that men, instead\nof believing too little, will believe too much. Now is the time for\nlaying a careful foundation. Psychical research, spiritualism, and the\nlike, are not ends in themselves, they are only means to an end. At the\npresent state of thought, the transition from the old to the new, from\nthe lower to the higher, it is inevitable that there must be confusion\nand doubt, and the earnest thinker must be prepared to suspend judgment\non many points; but at a later stage, when all absurdity, error, and\nfraud, now so closely connected with psychical research in its various\nbranches, will have been swept away, Truth will emerge and lift the human\nrace to a purer and loftier conception of God and His universe.","title":"True Irish Ghost Stories","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":54699}