An Extraordinary Ghost Story from Madeley Wood.
In the nineteenth century we have many strange discoveries, new theories started, old ones ridiculed to be re-established by another generation, the greatest assembly of the greatest of the greatest christian nation on the earth, sending thousands of men and millions of money to convert those who are yet without the pale of the Bible, engaged in debating the fitness of an avowed Atheist to take part in its deliberations, and assist the government of the “Defender of the Faith,” the Divine origin of man proved by the highest scientists to be a delusion; but it has remained for our little suburb of Madeley Wood to furnish a good genuine ghost story, the following particulars of which were gained by one of our representatives on the spot.
In a small row of humble cottages near the bottom of Thave street lives (or rather did live till evicted by this spiritual visitor) a young man named Isaac Ward with his wife, and his wife’s mother and father, whose name is Evans. Formerly the cottage was occupied by Ward’s father, John Ward, who died some twelve months since. John appears, from the story of his relatives and friends not to have lived up to that code of morality to which the ordinary respectable inhabitants of a Shropshire town bow more or less strictly, in fact so much so, that in the words of a near relative “he could na expect to rest anywhere.”
Having shuffled off this mortal coil at the early age of 45, it was thought that John was done with in this world, and had been transferred to happier or more miserable regions than can be found on the surface of this sublunary sphere. This fond hope lasted till about three months ago, when his relatives became alarmed by the constant slamming of locked doors and footsteps which could not be accounted for. These “manifestations” kept increasing in violence as time rolled on till last week, when the “manifestations” gave way to “appearances.”
One night the old man Evans, who says he is “not frightened at a little,” was aroused by his son-in-law’s shouts, and on the old man going into his room, he declared that he had seen his father sitting in the room, but at that time the others could see nothing.
A night or two after the old man heard a loud noise at the top of the stairs, and footsteps going down. He at once got up and followed the footsteps down, and on getting to the kitchen, saw what he describes as “something like a dog, only it had not got a dog’s head,” flying round the kitchen, with a scratching pattering noise, and disappear like a flash near the chimney.
Nor was this all: across the way lives John Ward’s mother and her grandson, in a house close to a tree well known in the locality as “the old pear tree,” and here the ghost also made his appearance, this time as John Ward in propria persona (spiritually of course) under the pear tree to the grandson, and in the house to the old lady, finishing up his vagaries by coming in the middle of the night and catching hold of the grandson and rousing him out of his sleep!
In fact so great was the fright that it was considered necessary to have the assistance of a minister of religion to “lay the spirit,” so the resident Wesleyan minister was applied to, and afterwards the Vicar of Madeley, who, however, declined to have any hand in frightening the ghost. A gentleman connected with the Primitive Methodists, who occasionally exhorts was next applied to, but could not come in the night, as he had to go to his employment in the morning. “In fact they are all afraid,” said Ward’s wife; eventually not being able to get the ghost bottled, they abandoned the house on Friday night, and went into an empty one at the end of the same row, where they were located when our representative visited the spot.
On Saturday night a large number of fellows went, towards midnight, to watch the place, waited in vain for some time, but having drained the large jar of beer they had brought with them, one suggested that “if it was old Jack Ward he wouldn’t have waited till the drink was all gone!” and the watch was abandoned.
Ultimately a man named Thomas Ward was found able and willing to wrestle with the ghost, and he entered the house and held a little prayer meeting, “but he didn’t stop long,” said our informant. Whether this has proved efficacious we do not know, but we believe the parties have shifted back within the last day or two.
It is needless to say that Madeley Wood is all agog with the matter, and the timid people stay at home at night in the vicinity. Such are the facts we have gleaned about the matter, and the people scorn the idea of being hoaxed. We must leave the elucidation of it to those whom it may concern.
Ironbridge Weekly Journal and Borough of Wenlock Advertiser, 20th August 1881.