Notes from Oxford.
There is no doubt that a spice of the supernatural adds wonderfully to the charm of a tale of a neighbourhood, and (where one is not required to sleep in it alone on a stormy night) even of a house. But since the clearing up of many mysterious revelations of the Cock-lane type, ghost-seers, witchcraft and diabelerie generally have been at a discount, and it was only in remote parts of the country that the belief was supposed to retain any footing at all. There, indeed, especially in the sparsely populated districts of Devon and Cornwall, tales were told in my boyhood days that almost made my hair “stand on end”, of weird knockings that might be heard in the “witching hour of night”, and were supposed to foretell to my horror the approaching death of some loved member of the family; sudden falls of the contents of the crockery cupboard or kitchen dresser when no human being was near it, in that case I opine the omen fulfilled itself.
Then again I have heard of women without heads who appear at dangerous turns of steep hills, and portend a disastrous overthrow, and this is generally speedily fulfilled, the alarm of the driver communicating itself to the steed, if the latter is not the first to discover the spectre; a sudden removal of all the bedclothes by invisible hands (a very uncomfortable manifestation this, by the way, on a cold winter night) and many more of the same order, I could multiply cases ad infinitum.
But what shall I say when a ghost invades our great seat of learning and disturbs the very centre of the arts and sciences with its unhallowed uproar? You don’t believe a ghost would try it on here? Then listen to the tale of the Cowley ghost, which has been nightly performing his weird tricks there in the past week.
The report was first started on Sunday se’nnight, by, I am told, Mr Hedges, builder, saying that he had been annoyed by stones thrown at his windows, and on the tiles of the house, which had broken one pane of glass, and killed a young duck. On the nights of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday last the throwing continued, sometimes lasting till 11, 12, and on the latte rnight till after 1.
There were two constables on the spot, and a crowd varying from 50 to 200, on different nights, but no one could discover who threw the stones. Some of the missiles weighed as much as 4 oz.
A large number of persons, including the police, were struck, but none were hurt, and no more glass broken, though several stones and cinders struck the windows. The “great Moses” had from the commencement of the throwing made excursions to Oxford and neighbouring villages, asserting that the stones came from the sky and prophesying the continuance of the showers, also that they would be followed by a great earth quake to swallow half the world. This of course attracted the crowds, added to the report which spread in the village that a ghost was the cause of the disturbance.
On Thursday night the “great Moses” attended to “lay” the ghost, but was so inebriated and the origin of such a disturbance, that he had to be seen home by a gallant P.C.
The opinion of most sensible persons is that the stones and cinders are thrown from the windows or immediate neighbourhood of Mr Hedges’ house. But, alas, numbers of persons believe it to be a bona fide ghostly manifestation.
Oxfordshire Weekly News, 17th July 1872.