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Drogheda, County Louth (1890)

Judge Kisbey and the Ghosts.

From the Daily Telegraph.

Most people are familiar with the ordinary difficulties experienced in taking a house. There are certain recognised discussions and investigations as to ventilation, with a view of ascertaining that the wind does not “blow where it listeth,” and as to many mysteries of pipes, tap, and water supply, the state of the oven, the boiler, and the copper – the latter subject being chiefly in the interest of the cook. Lawyers are about, and there is much investigation of title; and finally comes the grand triumph, so dear to newly-married couples, at all events, of the “moving in.” It is known that if the landlord has, as it were, played false cards, and talked over-lovingly, not to say altogether inaccurately, concerning the sanitary condition of the scullery, there are remedies; and if the ceilings be warranted sound, whereas in truth and fact they are but whited sepulchres of decaying lath and plaster, wonderful call is promptly made on clauses for repair, and the glorious machinery that is governed by the law of landlord and tenant is promptly put into action – that is to say, action at law – and judges have power to order bad landlords or recalcitrant tenants, as the case may be, to do their respective duties, and, moreover, to do them “with costs.”

Now, it seems that a newly-discovered cause of complaint against landlords is not held to be good in law, and that is the suggestion that the house is haunted. The case in question comes straight from our beautiful sister isle, very properly renowned for its pixies and fairies, its leprechauns and “phoocas” – a sort of horse-ghost that lives in running water, and is addicted to making cataracts its especial domicile – and it concerns the presence of a ghost in a house in Drogheda – a town made immortal as having been once battered by the late Protector Oliver Cromwell: as the proud possessor of the lovely “Yellow Tower,” the work of fifteenth century Franciscan monks; and in more recent days as the scene of a highly important contested election on which Mr Parnell’s most potent influence was brought to bear.

Drogheda, it seems, has a ghost, who set himself to annoy the tenants, who, said the plaintiff, took “a house, her property, at the Marsh, Drogheda.” Now, what happened at this “House on the Marsh?” It seems that Mr and Mrs Kinney took the house, and agreed to pay Miss Weir, its undisputed owner, five pounds fifteen shillings a quarter for its use. The Kinneys moved in, having had no notice of the supernatural person who was to be a joint tenant, or a tenant in common – the point of difference was not raised – with them.

The first night nothing occurred, but on the second night the Drogheda ghost  began to “make noises.” Had he behaved properly, like a decent ghost, no Irish matron could have possibly taken exception to his conduct. “White ladies,” and wonderful persons with rustling silk dresses or clanking chains, and invisible coaches and four that drive round gravel walks at night are quite common in Ireland; and all respectable families possess a banshee in attendence. So the mere existence of a ghost certainly ought not to have terrified Mrs Kinney.

The lady, however, if her evidence be true, certainly had a grievance. For this ungallant ghost came by night, when “the varlets they were all asleep and none was there to see,” and not merely was rude enough to intrude his presence on Mrs Kinney after that lady had retired to rest, but “threw heavy things at her,” when she was in bed, in consequence of which she was “greatly frightened,” and had to leave next day. The landlord, or landlady, Miss Weir, however, being apparently of materialistic tendencies, seems to have entirely discredited this very interesting narrative, and set herself to sue the Kinneys for her quarter’s rent.

She did not urge that the ghost was an appanage of the house – a sort of thing like an easement, or a right of way; or even “an ancient light.” She merely said she wanted her rent, and asked the law, through his Honour Judge Kisbey, to give the defendants no quarter, but to give her, the plaintiff, one specified quarter to the tune of five pounds and fifteen shillings. Judge Kisbey is a distinguished writer on the Law of Bankruptcy, and when at the Bar was a notable figure on the North-East Circuit, and had every opportunity of knowing all about Irish ghosts during the years he so successfuly went that circuit. Being aware of this fact, and of the recognised logical impartiality of the learned judge, Mrs Kinney set up her case, and entrusted its conduct to one Mr Smith, a practising solicitor in the “City of the Yellow Tower.”

That gentleman examined his client, and she swore to the behaviour of the ghost, and the heavy things thrown on her bed, whereupon it was put forward that, under the circumstances, Miss Weir, who it was admitted, had never said one single word about the ghost at the time of letting the “House on the Marsh,” could not in law recover her rent. Spiritland was, no doubt, stirred to its depths, or heights, when this defence – not at all complimentary to ghosts – was made. But what, siad his Honeour Judge Kisbey? Without even adjourning the case, as it was in his power to do, for the purpose of serving an astral subpoena on the ghost, or calling for “expert evidence” from mediums, or asking for an immediate “dark seance” in his private room he gave bold judgment in the trite words, “That is no defence in the eyes of the law. I must give a decree.”

What a thunderbolt this decision must have been to Mr Solicitor Smith, of Drogheda, can well be imagined. Here was a judge, sitting at quarter sessions, who with distinct resolution, and with his “sense of courage by no means daunted,” to alter Hood’s delightful line, said in fact that the law didn’t recognise ghosts at all! It must have been a very important psychological moment, and yet the indifferent Irish spirits who no doubt fluttered around his Honour’s wig made no sign, nor did they tear him in pieces as evidence to all time that ghosts exist. They did not even throw heavy things at him.

Mr Smith, however, most undefeated of advocates, was not taken aback all. He declared that “he had witnesses here who can prove to you that the house is haunted;” and it is indeed a loss to psychology to find that Judge Kisbey was perfectly adamantine on that point, and refused to hear the evidence of the fine old Irish believers in phantoms in general and the Kinney-haunting ghost in particular. His Honour put the matter somewhat abruptly, for all he condescended to say was “That does not matter;” and so Miss Weir got her decree.

The moral of it all is that our friends the spiritualists, whose doings we had recent occasion to comment upon, must really talk sensibly to their invisible friends, and point out to them how badly they are behaving. It is recorded in the book called “The Night Side of Nature,” by Mrs Crowe, how loose and disorderly were the proceedings of the once celebrated Cock Lane ghost. That particular phantom had a fancy for throwing crockery about, taking the meat off the table, and generally conducting himself like a high-spirited schoolboy, with a strong taste for mischief and an extra week’s holiday. It is true that some so-called sensible people did not believe in the Cock Lane ghost, and said that there was another way to account for the alleged phenomena consistent with ordinary human experience, but of course no spiritualist would pay attention to any such idle fable. The Cock Lane ghost was a bold, bad spirit, and this Drogheda ghost is obviously of the same sort, a sort that obviously ought to be checked in its career of disrepute.

Who is to do it? Who is to explain to these perterbers of the domesticity of Drogheda that they have brought on themselves discredit in the eyes of the law? Obviously those ladies and gentlemen who are in constant rational interchange of ideas with the spirits of the departed. Let this Drogheda demon be summoned, and let him be severely admonished, and told that he really ust not so rudely violate the ordinary convenances of society as to come into a lady’s room without knocking, as ghosts generally do, under tables, and throw heavy things at her. He ought to be informed that he will get himself disliked in spirit-land by all reputable “spooks,” an dit ought to be clearly pointed out to him that the Irish tribunals do not believe in him at all. They surely ought to bring him to his spiritual senses. At the same time, it must be said, in fairness, that we have the word of a practising solicitor, an officer of the court, to the effect that there were plenty of witnesses to prove that the house was haunted.

It might be objected that such a suggestion of such evidence could only occur in an Irish case; but the sneer would be, as a matter of honest fact, quite illogical and inaccurate. There are far more professed spiritualists among the educated classes in England than in Ireland. The spiritualist idea never took any deep root in Ireland in social circles. There is no organised body of spiritualists who give publicity to their proceedings there, though, of course, “planchette” and table and hat turning are practised in the usual course of drawing-room amusements, just as “thought-reading” is worked successfully by active-minded men and women all over the civilised globe. Among the Irish peasantry, however, such thoughts do hold root, and here is, indeed, a nice point to be taken up by the Society for Psychical Research and cognate bodies. Let them send an accredited agent to hear what can be said by the witnesses to the Drogheda ghost, whose evidence, according to Judge Kisbey, “didn’t matter,” and let us have the result.

Belfast News-letter, 28th January 1890.

 

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

The ghost at St James’s, that haunts the “Old House by the Boyne,” has been the sensation of the week. The house, long since notable as the dwelling of a Peninsular and Waterloo warrior, Captain Ackland – who was one of the officers in charge of the soldiers told off for the burial of Sir John Moore – and also remarkable as the scene of Mrs Sadlier’s (New York) popular novel, has the interest attached to it rehabilitated and heightened by Mr Kenny’s ghostly experiences.

It was a great pity that matter of fact Judge Kisbey could not let it inside his horse hair wig to hear all the witnesses who were to the fore to do justice to the ghost. The judge cooked the defendant’s goose too soon. One of th egreat newspapers of the day – the London Daily Telegraph – has made the apparition the subject of a leader, which we transfer to our columns. The Telegraph makes a mistake in a few particulars – for instance, in confounding Drogheda with Dundalk, the capital town of North Louth, as the scene of a most important contested election in which Mr Parnell’s most potent influence was brought to bear. Where is the site of the Yellow Tower the writer also speaks of? Here the writer errs again, we think, in confounding Drogheda with the capital of North Meath. But these are merely items of Irish topography in which it would be too much to expect a London leader writer to be accurate.

The article speaks of the interest which the case was sure to have for spiritualist seers. As the result, Drogheda on Wednesday afternoon was visited by two gentlemen connected with the London Press, some specially to inquire into the facts and see the ghost, if possible, for themselves. Both are gentlemen of undoubtedly high intellectual attainments – one said to be connected with the Daily Telegraph; the other with that widely read publication – Answers – which follows somewhat on the lines of Notes and Queries. Here is journalistic and literary enterprise of a remarkable kind! Two pressmen come all the way from London to Drogheda to interview a ghost!

On their arrival, their inquiries naturally turned upon spirits. The gentleman to whom they spoke, not grasping their mission and meaning at first, directed them to try Mr P. Reilly’s and they would be sure to interview the genuine article. As for spirit rapping, which they spoke of, he assured them it was a fine old custom in Drogheda, performed with the bottom of an empty pewter on a tap room table, and was always sure to “call up spirits” – or porter – “from the vasty deep.” Having made the purport of their visit understood, everything to facilitate their investigations was done with alacrity. The news of their arrival quickly flew around and excited immense interest. Their anxiety to see the ghost was not greater than that of our leading townsmen to see them.

The famous house was placed at their disposal, to become tenants at will, rent free, subject only to ejectment process by the ghost. They expressed their intention to take up their quarters in the house for the night and occupy the haunted room. One of our local pressmen – who are all spirit proof – accompanied them. As some parties, idlers, of the Marsh, not interested in psychological research, showed a disposition to keep knocking around the premises, a few police were told off to keep the coast clear of intruders, and also to be at hand to collar the ghost in case it broke the law.

At the “witching hour of midnight, when churchyards yawn and graveyards give up their dead,” some noises were heard by the watchers; but as they could be referred to tom-cats as readily as to a ghotly presence, the result was not altogether satisfactory, and did not count. They were determined, however, not so easily to give up the ghost, and resolved on renewing their watch for the apparition on Thursday night, and did so. With what result we have not been able to ascertain. Even had we ascertained, it would not be fair to forestall the results which will in due course be given to the reading public in the journals with which these gentlemen are connected.

But it appears to us that they have not given the ghost a fair chance. Apart from the fact that ghosts are constitutionally shy, and that it is not to every one they like to show themselves, there appears to be this peculiarity about this ghost – that, like a spirit of gallantry, it is to women that it reveals itself! Like Mickey Free, it appears to be partial to ladies. This idiosyncracy on its part makes us still incline to our theory, already propounded, that it is the ghost of the Waterloo warrior. The ladies, as the Grand Dutchess assures us, “dote on the military;” and the converse is equally true – the military dote on the ladies and even in our “ashes live their wonted fires.”

To give the ghost “a fair do” of it and make it certain to come out, the gentlemen should have stopped at home and sent over some of the ladies that adorn London’s scientific circles and platforms to tackle the shade. Let them come overy by all means. With all our hearts shall we welcome them. Let them, to conduct the experiment properly, bring their coiffur de nuit with them, get tucked into bed in the haunted room, blow the candle out, and we wager our bottom dollar on it that the ghost will lean over the foot of the bed, and bid – Good morning to their night caps!

Drogheda Argus and Leinster Journal, 1st February 1890.

 

Ghost Hunting.

A couple of gentlemen from “Answers” arrived in Drogheda in search of a ghost on Wednesday. Although they spent a couple of nights in “the Old House by the Boyne” they failed to make the acquaintance we believe of any other more potent spirit than that branded “J.J. & S.”

Drogheda Independent, 1st February 1890.

 

Alleged haunted house in Drogheda.

How a night was spent in it.

(By one who wished to see the ghost).

From my earliest youth I have a vivid recollection of hearing stories of fairies, of their doings, and of the different periods when, according to some of the would-be seers, they were sure to be visible to the naked eye, of ghosts parading through the stately halls of some old mansion at the witching hour of night; but, though I have repeatedly heard what I suppose the author of a “penny dreadful” would term “blood-curdling yarns,” I have never yet been able to meet any person who had ever seen an apparition of any kind that might by the greatest stretch of imagination be construed into anything having a supernatural origin.

Frequently, when hearing a story of a house being made the centre of certain ghostly manifestations, I have questioned the parties who were supposed to have seen the “real article,” but i have always found that the rather celebrated story of “the three black crows” was to some extent being repeated. The answer that I always got to such inquiries was, “I never saw it myself, but I know a man who knew a man who did.” That invariably was the result of my investigation, and though I frequently stopped in houses which, if reports that were current were to be believed, were crowded with spirits (not J. J. and S.), my slumbers were undisturbed, and I never saw anything that would be calculated to frighten or annoy even the veriest child.

I always had a particular desire to investigate the causes of such annoyances, and on hearing that in the town of Drogheda there existed a house which, according to repute, was known as being haunted, my desire to ascertain the truth or falsity of such was considerably whetted. From inquiries I have made I have learned that noises of a peculiar character were supposed to have been heard in the house known as St. James’s, on the Marsh Road. According to the statement of those who occupied th ebuilding, doors were slammed, the handles of them turned, strange lights were noticed, and usually the appearance of an apparition followed such manifestations.

In consequence of the case which was brought forward at the Quarter Sessions last week by the landlady to recover a quarter’s rent for this house, universal public interest was aroused. The tenant disputed the claim, averring that he could not live in the house because it was haunted. In his evidence he stated that the second night he stopped in the house he was awakened by his wife, who informed him that something heavy had been thrown upon her in the bed, and that on looking  up she saw a figure leaning over the bottom of the bed. Notwithstanding this, the County Court Judge gave a decreefor the amount claimed, stating that the defence raised was in the eyes of the law no defence at all. No one will attempt to dispute the legality of such a decision, and it may be somewhat consoling to people generally to know that the law doesn’t recognise ghosts at all, so that in case any of my readers should ever happen to see one, they may take the law into their own hands and punish the invader, without fear of prosecution from the authorities.

The case, or at least a summary of it, gained widespread circulation, and many of the London papers discussed its merits, but one of them, more energetic than the rest, despatched two members of the staff to come over here and investigate the matter thoroughly by stopping a night in the house. On Wednesday these gentlemen arrived in town, and being anxious to fully inquire into the matter, I visited them, and subsequently decided on spending th enight with them in the haunted chamber. The house is so well known in this locality that any description of it would be utterly superfluous, suffice it to say that it is situated under the south side of the viaduct, the front facing the north, and the back looking towards the railway station.

The room in which the ghost is alleged to have appeared is situated on the second storey, and is a fine, bright, airy one, with two windows, one looking to the front and the other to the rere. At the back of the house there is a large garden, which is separated from a pond by a close pailing. To this house on Wednesday night, at about 10 o’clock, I wended my way, equipped with a dark lantern, and a stout, heavy stick, which I was determined the ghost would feel in case he or she appeared. On entering th ehouse I found the two English journalists and a friend who remained with us during the night. In addition we had the former tenant and the present one, both of whom we questioned closely, and both their tales tallied almost in every particular.

Knockings had been frequently heard at the front door, and on being opened no person had been seen, then the ghost appeared, which the previous tenant assured me had been frequently seen by his sisters. He also stated that he had often heard noises, but that he himself had never been able to see anything of a ghostly nature. The present tenant stated that the first night he spent in the house, after retiring to bed, he saw a light immediately over the door, and on examining the window facing the road I found that the shutters did not close perfectly.

It was in June last that he saw the light, and at that time of the year the members of the rowing club were in the habit of being out late, training for the regatta, and on returning to the boat house the light from the window would be reflected to the front window of the house at St James’, and then the shutters not being perfectly closed it would be reflected on the wall immediately over the door, and exactly at the place where Mr Kenny stated he saw it. So much for the light en passe.

Coming up to eleven o’clock every person left with the exception of the two English Journalists a friend and myself. We then with our lanterns made a minute examination of the place, and noted that there were no holes by which a rat or any other animal of the kind could disturb us. We then adjourned to the garden, examined it, and returned to the house, securely fastening all the doors and windows. Scarcely had we entered the room when a sharp, loud, knocking was heard at the door. Two others and myself went down to the hall door, and demanded who was there, but instead of hearing the sepulchral tones of a ghost, an ordinary voice replied – friends.

We then opened the door and found four or five parties who were anxious to become ghost sentinels with us. We courteously declined this offer as we considered a large number of people stopping in the house might disturb or annoy the ghost, so that we would not be able even to get a glimpse of it. Still, later than that, we had a visitation from several others, among them being the police who evidently wished to protect us. After chatting to the latter for some moments they left, wishing us in, as I imagined a satirical manner, a pleasant night.

On returning to the room where her ladyship – by the way I forgot to mention that the supposed ghost was not a member of the sterner sex – was supposed to hold her nightly receptions, we slacked down the fire and extinguished the light in order that every facility might be given her. I must confess that when the candles were put out I felt a little anxious, for by the stories that we heard the apparition usually opened the door and entered just as the lights were put out. Looking towards the door, we listened, hoping that every moment the door handle would rattle, as it was supposed to do, and that our visitant would put in an appearance and give us a chance of interviewing it. Still we listened, but still there was no sound, and we quietly lighted our cigars, and settled ourselves down comfortably, to wait and watch. This we continued, with our lantern in readiness, till the witching hour, when we expected to hear something which would be some slight return to us for loosing our night’s rest. But even at this time we did not see or hear anything. No doubt we heard some slight noises, but they were such as would be heard in any empty house, especially one in which some of the windows were broken.

We frequently stepped out of the room on tip-toe, and up the stairs into the one in which we were told the ghost had unceremoniously pulled a servant girl out of the bed, but even here we did not see or hear anything. All this time we were in cimerian darkness, so that had the usual light by which the ghost was supposed to announce its approach, appeared we could not by any possibility have missed seeing it. In this manner we spent the time till about half-past one o’clock, when once more a loud knocking was heard at the front door.  As before, three of us went below, leaving one behind, least in our absence anything should appear. No noise was heard outside, though we listened intently. The knock was then repeated, and we determined to ask who was there. A voice replied, in a somewhat drawly fashion, “Ghost!” “What do you want,” we asked; “or who are you? What are you, and what are you doing here”? Again the answer came, “ghost,” and after a little hesitation, the voice said, “Ghost! in search of my father’s property.”

We knew at once by the voice that it was some person who was trying to play us a trick, and we determined to turn the tables upon him. Up the stairs we gently slipped, noiselessly opened the window overlooking the door, and we then saw a man, who appeared to have been imbibing in spirits of a different kind from those we were in search of, standing below. In a second or two we procured a large basin of water, and this we hurled down upon him, and, after uttering some language, which I will not here repeat, he took to his heels and skedadled; and, I venture to say that he is not yet able to decide whether or not he had had an encounter with the “ghost.” So quietly did we move about he could not have heard the slightest noise, and I think the deluge of water that he got was enough to damp his ghost-seeing ardour. After this little incident, which, I need hardly say, we heartily enjoyed, we returned to our room and were left undisturbed for the remainder of the night.

Of ghosts we saw nothing, though we were all most anxious to have an interview with one. Noises we did hear, but they were the noises of the trains being shunted at the station, and I have not the slightest hesitation in saying that everything that any of the tenants of the house heard were caused in the same manner. Situated, as the dwelling is, so close to the Viaduct, any noises are re-echoed through the entire house. Shortly before four o’clock we heard what appeared to be a shriek, but on it being repeated we knew at once that it was a train whistling at the station. Had the whistle not been repeated we might have come away satisfied in our own minds that we had heard the ghost, but fortunately we were able, without difficulty, to account for the noise.

During the entire night I was sitting on a chair directly over the spot where we were told the apparition always disappeared, and still i was undisturbed, though, I suppose, if the spirit that is alleged to roam about there had been a vindictive one, I would have been hurled from my seat, and might have had the chance of a hand to hand encounter with it.

I never placed the slightest credence in any story in reference to ghosts, and certainly my experience in the “haunted” house for the night makes me more assured than ever that no such things as ghosts do exist, or ever did exist. Noises of various kinds may be heard in houses, but I think if they were examined into at the time, it would at once be found that they were caused either by rats, mice, or the wind coming in through an open window. The house I write about is in every respect an admirable one, the rooms are all of a good size, and the ceilings lofty, and that any man should leave it and refuse to live there because of seeing something that his own imagination may have conjured up, is really hardly creditable. My three companions and myself spent the entire night in the house, and if in reality there was anything to be seen, I think we had ample opportunities for doing so.

We did not, as a local scribe in the Daily Express of yesterday states: “screw up our courage by imbibing a little spirits, of the blend of J. J. & S., no less than six years old,” for as a matter of fact, two of the four are teetotalers in the strictest sense of the word. We went there determined to elucidate the mystery if there was one; but we found that there was no mystery to be explained, and I have no hesitation in saying that none ever did exist. The stories about this and other houses in the town being haunted, exist only in the imagination of some people of exceedintly nervous temperament, they have no foundation whatever in fact, and it is well that their minds should be disabused of such ideas. With this object in view I stopped in the house. I neither saw or heard anything that I could not account for in every particular, and I would not have the slightest hesitation in stopping in the same house on any occasion, and I have no fear that at any time my rest would be disturbed by the lady in tinsil, who is alleged to have a prediliction for roaming about in the “old house by the Boyne.”

Drogheda Conservative, 1st February 1890.

 

Ghostly.

Our esteemed contemporary, Answers, of this week reveals to a curious public the forty-eight hours’ experience of its representatives in what they are pleased to call a “haunted house” in Drogheda. The report of Mr Answers’ visit to our twon runs the length of nine chapters and concludes with a P.S.

Chapter 1, refers to the circumstances of the case as brought out before Judge Kisbey, and reported in these columns at the time; it also relates a hair-breadth escape at the outlet of the journey from London at the hands of a drunken jarvey; some details of the channel voyage, and of the journey from Drogheda to Dublin. It likewise gives a description of the bearings of the Old House by the Boyne, which it is unnecessary to reproduce. In chapters 2 and 3 are detailed narratives by Messrs Palmer and Kenny, the former and present tenant of the house, and narratives being given above their respective names, and revealing a condition of things which we would be inclined to receive with a great deal of caution.

The remainder of the story consists of the observations of Mr Answers himself. It is amusing to note the different conclusions drawn from identical premises by “One who was There,” as set out in a late issue of a local contemporary, and by the Cockney ghost-hunter. By some it is related the latter came across furnished with an improved pattern of Ally Sloper’s  instantaneous process of photographing his ghostship; but this by the way. The “moan” (save the mark!) was interpreted by one literary light as an echo conveyed thitherward by a night train crossing the bridge (of size). And true enough the iron horse should have a heart of steel if it did not express in some form its sympathy with this vasty pile through whose eyes (it has sixteen, remember) verily a stream, call it tears if you will, continues always to flow. By another the same unnatural sound is attributed to a warning note from a shunting engine cautioning all whom it may concern to leave the road or they may have cause to “moan.”

The light alleged to have been seen by Mr Kenny above his door, the Londoner thinks would be produced by the moon careering by the southern sky. “One who was there” thinks it was a reflection of a boat light; while a third from beyond the herring pond, it is said, thinks the greenish demoniacal lustre might very probably be produced by a spark caused by a collision between the aurora borealis and the North Pole. Could he be serious? But the real wiseacre (a Droghedean too, and we are proud of him) attributes the light to the reflection of a spark of electricity arising from the friction produced by an encounter between two love sick tabbies engaged in mortal combat for the affection of a fair Dulcinea, who, perched like a Roman beauty upon the verandah eyes with cool gratification the havoc made upon each other by her fair admirers of the sterner sex. Not an illogical conclusion at all.

Leaving this matter in the hands of a discriminating public to draw their own deductions on this point, we pass on to make one small correction by way of keeping ourselves straight in the eyes of those who may happen to read this narrative. Mr Answers, through mistake, no doubt, states that the editors of the three Drogheda papers came rushing in to him in his quarters in the alleged “haunted house.” There is a slight inaccuracy in this statement, as no representative from this paper either interviewed or sought an interview with Mr Answers. The affair was regarded in this firm from first to last, as an able stroke of business on the part of the proprietors of our esteemed contemporary. We refer to this simply to safeguard ourselves from the imputation of having the silliness to mistake the ticking of an old Waterbury timepiece for the footsteps of a ghost; and having engaged ourselves, then and there, helter-skelter, at notetaking! What the deuce was he noting? That’s the question. With all Mr Answer’s cleverness, we question the wisdom of endeavouring to turn the tables upon his cicerones while in Drogheda.

Drogheda Independent, 15th February 1890.

The Society of Psychical Research have a sharp look out for the ghost who is dodging inquisitive people in the House on the Marsh. The fact that the seers who came from London all the way recently failed in sighting the ghost is no proof at all of its non-existence. It is not because this, that, or the other person failed to see it, that some one else, therefore, did not. From all that is known of ghosts, they are very fastidious in picking up new acquaintance, and it is only to the select few they care to introduce themselves. The spectre, no doubt, indulged in a ghostly chuckle at the discomfiture of the Cockney visitors, who thought, Cesar-like, they had only to come with a veni, vidi, vici, and unravel the mystery. Returning home just as wise as they came what could be expected but that they should try to belittle the ghost that begged to be excused from making their acquaintance. In Answers this week the seers give the results of their visit.

Meantime the Society of Psychical Research are hard at it and are determined not to give up the ghost so easily as our recent visitors. The society, by the way, includes in its membership men of the highest rank in the walks of literature, science, and art. In its council extremes meet. We find th ename of Mr Balfour in juxtaposition with that of Mr Gladstone! While they are at opposite poles in poitical thought, they can meet socially, it appears, to discuss spirits. There is nothing like the spirits after all, let the teetotallers say what they will, for making fractious people forget their little differences for a time.

Hard headed politicians and cold-blooded men of science, poets and a couple of bishops, with some MDs and litterateurs and professors galore, are found commingled upon the council of the Society. The President is Professor Sidgwick, Cambridge. Then come the VPs, including the Right Hon AJ Balfour, the Right Revs Bishops of Ripon and of Carlisle, &c. Farther down we had such names of world-wide renown as Mr Gladstone, John Ruskin, Lord Tennyson, &c; and we find all these eminent personages quite as anxious to discuss the ghostly presence on the Marsh, and learn the full and true particulars, as any coterie of old women sitting round a fireside would be – in whom similar curiosity would be dubbed superstition! So the world wags. One of the Hon Secs of the Society writes this week to Mr Palmer, of the Hibernian Bank, asking him to kindly favor the Society with a plain statement of the facts of his ghostly experiences.

Those whom the ghost has thought worthy of the privilege of seeing it should feel immensely indebted to it for the favor it has done them. It has brought them into direct communication with and introduced them to high society in the world of literature and art, such as under ordinary circumstances few or none of us may hope to attain to. The objects of the Society, as set forth in the leaflet accompanying their letter asking for facts as to the Marsh apparition, are – “for the purpose of making an organised and systematic attempt to investigate various sorts of debatable phenomena which are, prima facie , inexplicable on any generally recognised hypothesis.”

Amongst the principal departments of work which the Society undertake, we find – “a careful investigation of any reports, resting on strong testimony, of apparitions occurring at the moment of death or otherwise, and of disturbances in houses reported to be haunted.” What a pity, in the interests of psychical research, that Judge Kisbey should have made the witnesses, who were to the fore to testify on oath to the ghostly presence, shut up.

Drogheda Argus and Leinster Journal, 15th February 1890.

Forty-eight Hours In A Haunted House.

The Drogheda Ghost.

A special correspondent of “Answers” gives in the current number, a narrative of his experience in the haunted house at Drogheda, which was the subject of a claim before Judge Kisbey at the last Quarter Sessions, when his Honour said that ghosts were no defence to a process for rent in the eye of the law. The correspondent says –

After a hasty breakfast at the White Horse, an old fashioned hostelry where commercial travellers seem to congregate in great numbers, we went off to interview Mr Smyth, the solicitor who took such a prominent part in the case. The “haunted house” is certainly a desolate place at present. Many of the windows are broken; the garden is a wilderness of rank grass hemmed in by a box-hedging over two feet in height; the trees, including a large arbutus and a holly, have been so cut and battered about as to be scarcely recognisable; and in front is a square of trampled grass, surrounded by a high wall, over which can be seen the tumbledown roofs of various farm buildings. The iron gates will not close, and the capitals have fallen from the pillars. On the opposite side of the road is a long stretch of swamp, and beyond is the Boyne, along which we can see and hear the steamers ploughing their way towards Drogheda Quay.

To describe the situation of the house still more exactly, for this is important; it stands close to the base of the viaduct, the finest in the United Kingdom with the exception of the new Forth Bridge, and through its arches, shortly after our arrival, we looked upon a gorgeous sunset, the sky glowing like molten gold beyond the smoke of the factory chimneys which rise between us and this picturesque, old-fashioned, thoroughly Irish town.

High up above our heads trains pass and re-pass as though they belonged to another world, and about the noises they made I shall have something to say presently. The greater part of the limestone of which the viaduct is built was obtained from a quarry separated from the garden by a black paling, and only a few yards from the house. It is filled with stagnant water now, exceedingly deep, grimly suggestive of murder. In fact, the whole place is rendered attractive to the novelist by its dilapidation, capabilities of situation, and gloomy atmosphere, and although no tragedy seems to have been enacted here, I am not surprised to hear that a story (published, curiously enough, in New York) has already been written about “The Old House by the Boyne.”

By the recent decision of Judge Kisbey, Mr Kenny is still the tenant. So, having first obtained his business address from his solicitor, Mr Smyth, we went to him for permission to occupy the house for a couple of days, or longer if necessary, and this permission he readily gave. Mr Palmer, the previous tenant, kindly conducted us to our quarters, and from him, as indeed from all we met, we had every assistance. By means of a few articles of furniture which we hired in the town, we were soon able to make ourselves fairly comfortable, in spite of broken windows and walls reeking with moisture.

Before relating our own experiences, I will give those of others.

Mr Palmer’s Narrative. “I am the cashier in the Hibernian Bank, Drogheda, and lived in St. James’s House for three years, from March, 1886, to June, 1889. During that period I was frequently disturbed by noises which I could not then and cannot now explain in any ordinary way. They were not, so far as I can remember, confined to any particular season, but they were never heard until after dark. Upon several occasions we were startled by violent knocks at the hall door, although nobody was there. I am certain of that, for I went out at once and searched carefully all round. As you can see for yourself it would be all but impossible for anyone to approach and escape unnoticed, there being about twenty yards of gravel walk between the door and the gate. The knocking was heard not only by myself, but also by my wife, sister, and mother. Among the other inexplicable noises were the rattling of door handles within the house, distinct groans coming apparently from the landing outside my bedroom, and the raising of the hall-door latch, though this could only be done by a key of very peculiar construction. But the most remarkable manifestation was that of a tall lady wearing a white dress which had a shimmer like moonlight. After a short interval she seemed to vanish through the floor. The room in which she most often appeared is the one you are now in. She was seen at different times by my sister.

My servant had a different experience. The clothes were forcibly dragged off her in bed. This occurred not merely once, but several times, and in consequence she was so frightened that she left. We had never been told that the house was supposed to be haunted, so what we saw and heard cannot be explained in that way. I do not even now know of any story to account for the appearance of the lady. With regard to the strange noises, you had pointed out that the house is near the viaduct, that trains are often passing, and that the sounds from them might easily be supposed to have been made in the house. But the noises I speak of usually occurred after midnight, when there are no trains, and in any case this explanation would go a very short way.” Signed, A. W. Palmer.

Mr Kenny’s Narrative. “I took St. James’s House a few days after Mr Palmer left it. I was in complete ignorance of his experience, and neither my wife nor I had heard the faintest rumour about its being haunted. Our first night was uneventful. But upon the second night, shortly after we had gone to bed, I noticed a peculiar light above the door. It could not have been a reflection from anything outside, because over one window I had hung a thick rug to exclude the draught, and the shutters of the other window were closed. I was lying idly watching it, when suddenly the handle of the door was rattled as if something was turning it. My wife, thinking the servant was there, sprang out of bed, hastened to the door, and opened it. But there was nobody outside. The whole house was still. Although she was, of course, a good deal surprised, she closed the door and lay down again. A few moments later she cried out in terror that a tall woman clad in a shroud was standing at th ebottom of the bed. Then a heavy body was flung upon her and she fainted. I jumped up, lighted a candle, and had scarcely done so when I heard those moans. I tell you I had a rough time of it. Upon the same night the bedclothes were dragged off the servant who slept in a room upstairs. We left next morning, after having been in occupation for barely forty-eight hours. I would not spend another night in the house on any account.” (Signed) John J. Kenny.

The correspondent and two local journalists took up their seats in the house. We gathered round the fire, and no sound disturbed the silence of the night. But after a while an awed voice asked in a whisper, “Don’t you hear a peculiar ticking sound?” It was one of the editors who spoke, while his companions dozed around. As nobody answered him, he turned the red light of his bicycle lamp upon the darkened room, and, after listening intently, got his pencil and began making vigorous notes. All this time, though so tired I could scarcely open my eyes, I was shaking with suppressed laughter, for I happened to be wearing a Waterbury watch, which could be heard on the other side of the Boyne. That watch has got me into many a scrape while travelling. I have been taken for a dynamitard, the possessor of an infernal machine, and so forth; but surely of all strange things, the strangest would be for the modern Waterbury to be cited as a witness on behalf of the old-fashioned ghost.

The next event of which I was distinctly conscious was waking from sleep  – a very short one. The editors had gone, the fire had almost burned out, and the air was bitterly cold. As it was still dark, we explored the empty rooms, but, meeting with nothing to reward our search, returned to the fireside, piled on the coals, and made a brew of hot tea. Presently daylight began to glimmer between the shutters. Our first night in the “haunted house” was at an end.

We were overwhelmed with offers to spend the second night with us, but declined them all, for it was our intention to be by ourselves. Up to ten o’clock we again had a considerable number of visitors, but at that hour our kind friends, respecting our wishes, bade us good night, and we were left alone in the “haunted house.” Our first precaution was to examine thoroughly all the rooms and passages lest some practical joker should have gained entrance. We had brought with us a reel of cotton and a stick of sealing-wax, but after our examination of the premises did not think it worth while to use them, contenting ourselves with barring doors, and, where possible, closing shutters. Supper occupied the next half-hour. That finished, we made ourselves snug for the night, and extinguished all lights. Scarcely had we taken our places when the handle turned just as if someone were coming in. As this was one of the ghostly signs which had been observed both by Mrs Palmer and Mrs Kenny, we sprang to our feet. Was the white lady about to enter? No such luck; the explanation must be a very prosaic one. The catch was out of order, so that the door was not really fastened, although it seemed to be. We discovered that a slight gust of air was sufficient to open it; then the catch was released and the handle turned. That was all.

But before we had recovered from our disappointment, we were startled by a strange moaning sound which seemed to proceed from the ground floor. Without waiting for a light, we bolted out upon the landing; stopped for a moment and heard the sound coming apparently from the kitchen; then tumbled down the stairs. We could not see anything in the darkness, but the sound led us through the kitchen and into the back kitchen. We opened the back door. Away up above our heads a train was going slowly across the viaduct. We looked at one another and laughed, for that was our ghost. A Waterbury watch, a defective door-handle, a train – well, of the three, th ewhite lady was most likely to be connected with the last.I think, therefore, that the moaning cannot be admitted as evidence. The acoustic properties of the house are very remarkable.

There is a distinct echo at the spot where it stands; noises travel to it as easily as they do across the sea, the cause probably being the viaduct. Then, when a train is at a particular part of the line, the rattle of the wheels and the parts of the engine seems to enter the house by way of the kitchens, and thus, to a person on one of the upper floors, it sounds as if it had been produced downstairs. During our residence we have tested this in many ways. In such a house a ghost must really make itself seen as well as heard before it can be accepted as fact.

And as to one of the things which actually were seen. I fear that must go also. The spot where Mr Kenny noticed the peculiar light is exactly above the door; the shutters of one of the windows do not quite close at the top; if the spot above the door and the aperture between the shutters be joined, we have a line pointing to a part of the sky almost due south – in other words, to a part which the moon must often cross. It is not unreasonable, then, to suppose that the light which Mr Kenny saw was moonlight.

And so our mission draws to a close. We have not seen the ghost, and we feel that such facts as have been laid before us are capable of a natural explanation. At the same time, it is only fair to say that we have been given the addresses of two ladies who are said to have witnessed some extraordinary manifestations, but as their replies to my letters have not yet arrived, their evidence cannot be dealt with at present.

Banbridge Chronicle, 19th February 1890.

Two stories are told about haunted houses at Drogheda, the one by A.
G. Bradley in Notes on some Irish Superstitions (Drogheda, 1894), the
other by F. G. Lee in Sights and Shadows (p. 42) . As both appear to be
placed at the same date, i.e. 1890, it is quite possible that they refer
to one and the same haunting, and we have so treated them accordingly.
The reader, if he wishes, can test the matter for himself.

This house, which was reputed to be haunted, was let to a tailor and
his wife by the owner at an annual rent of £23. They took possession in
due course, but after a very few days they became aware of the presence
of a most unpleasant supernatural lodger. One night, as the tailor and
his wife were preparing to retire, they were terrified at seeing the
foot of some invisible person kick the candlestick off the table, and so
quench the candle. Although it was a very dark night, and the shutters
were closed, the man and his wife could see everything in the room just
as well as if it were the middle of the day. All at once a woman entered
the room, dressed in white, carrying something in her hand, which she
threw at the tailor’s wife, striking her with some violence, and then
vanished. While this was taking place on the first floor, a most
frightful noise was going on overhead in the room where the children and
their nurse were sleeping. The father immediately rushed upstairs, and
found to his horror the floor all torn up, the furniture broken, and,
worst of all, the children lying senseless and naked on the bed, and
having the appearance of having been severely beaten. As he was leaving
the room with the children in his arms he suddenly remembered that he
had not seen the nurse, so he turned back with the intention of bringing
her downstairs, but could find her nowhere. The girl, half-dead with
fright, and very much bruised, had fled to her mother’s house, where she
died in a few days in agony.

Because of these occurrences they were legally advised to refuse to
pay any rent. The landlady, however, declining to release them from
their bargain, at once claimed a quarter’s rent; and when this remained
for some time unpaid, sued them for it before Judge Kisby. A Drogheda
solicitor appeared for the tenants, who, having given evidence of the
facts concerning the ghost in question, asked leave to support their
sworn testimony by that of several other people. This, however, was
disallowed by the judge. It was admitted by the landlady that nothing on
one side or the other had been said regarding the haunting when the
house was let. A judgment was consequently entered for the landlady,
although it had been shown indirectly that unquestionably the house had
had the reputation of being haunted, and that previous tenants had been
much inconvenienced.

 in True Irish Ghost Stories (1914), by St. John D. Seymour and Harry L. Neligan.