True Irish Ghost Stories | Page 3

Co. Cork; Mrs, Thomas, Sandycove,
Dublin; Mrs. Walker, Glenbeigh, Co. Kerry; Miss Wolfe, Skibbereen,
Co. Cork; Mrs. E. Welsh, Nenagh; T.J. Westropp, Esq., M.A., M.R.I.A.,
Sandymount, Dublin; Mrs. M.A. Wilkins, Rathgar, Dublin; John Ward,
Esq., Ballymote; Mrs. Wrench, Ballybrack, Co. Dublin; Miss K.E.
Younge, Upper Oldtown, Rathdowney.
ST. JOHN D. SEYMOUR.
DONOHIL RECTORY,
CAPPAWHITE, TIPPERARY, February 2, 1914.

CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. HAUNTED HOUSES IN OR NEAR DUBLIN II. HAUNTED
HOUSES IN CONN'S HALF III. HAUNTED HOUSES IN MOGH'S
HALF IV. POLTERGEISTS V. HAUNTED PLACES VI.
APPARITIONS AT OR AFTER DEATH VII. BANSHEES, AND
OTHER DEATH-WARNINGS VIII. MISCELLANEOUS
SUPERNORMAL EXPERIENCES IX. LEGENDARY AND
ANCESTRAL GHOSTS X. MISTAKEN IDENTITY--CONCLUSION

TRUE IRISH GHOST STORIES
CHAPTER I
HAUNTED HOUSES IN OR NEAR DUBLIN
Of all species of ghostly phenomena, that commonly known as
"haunted houses" appeals most to the ordinary person. There is
something very eerie in being shut up within the four walls of a house
with a ghost. The poor human being is placed at such a disadvantage. If
we know that a gateway, or road, or field has the reputation of being
haunted, we can in nearly every case make a detour, and so avoid the
unpleasant locality. But the presence of a ghost in a house creates a
very different state of affairs. It appears and disappears at its own sweet
will, with a total disregard for our feelings: it seems to be as much part
and parcel of the domicile as the staircase or the hall door, and,
consequently, nothing short of leaving the house or of pulling it down
(both of these solutions are not always practicable) will free us
absolutely from the unwelcome presence.
There is also something so natural, and at the same time so unnatural,
in seeing a door open when we know that no human hand rests on the
knob, or in hearing the sound of footsteps, light or heavy, and feeling
that it cannot be attributed to the feet of mortal man or woman. Or
perhaps a form appears in a room, standing, sitting, or walking--in fact,
situated in its three dimensions apparently as an ordinary being of flesh
and blood, until it proves its unearthly nature by vanishing before our
astonished eyes. Or perhaps we are asleep in bed. The room is shrouded
in darkness, and our recumbent attitude, together with the weight of
bed-clothes, hampers our movements and probably makes us more
cowardly. A man will meet pain or danger boldly if he be standing
upright--occupying that erect position which is his as Lord of Creation;
but his courage does not well so high if he be supine. We are awakened
suddenly by the feel that some superhuman Presence is in the room.
We are transfixed with terror, we cannot find either the bell-rope or the
matches, while we dare not leap out of bed and make a rush for the
door lest we should encounter we know not what. In an agony of fear,

we feel it moving towards us; it approaches closer, and yet closer, to
the bed, and--for what may or may not then happen we must refer our
readers to the pages of this book.
But the sceptical reader will say: "This is all very well, but--there are
no haunted houses. All these alleged strange happenings are due to a
vivid imagination, or else to rats and mice." (The question of deliberate
and conscious fraud may be rejected in almost every instance.) This
simple solution has been put forward so often that it should infallibly
have solved the problem long ago. But will such a reader explain how it
is that the noise made by rats and mice can resemble slow, heavy
footsteps, or else take the form of a human being seen by several
persons; or how our imagination can cause doors to open and shut, or
else create a conglomeration of noises which, physically, would be
beyond the power of ordinary individuals to reproduce? Whatever may
be the ultimate explanation, we feel that there is a great deal in the
words quoted by Professor Barrett: "In spite of all reasonable
scepticism, it is difficult to avoid accepting, at least provisionally, the
conclusion that there are, in a certain sense, haunted houses, i.e. that
there are houses in which similar quasi-human apparitions have
occurred at different times to different inhabitants, under circumstances
which exclude the hypothesis of suggestion or expectation."
We must now turn to the subject of this chapter. Mrs. G. Kelly, a lady
well known in musical circles in Dublin, sends as her own personal
experience the following tale of a most quiet haunting, in which the
spectral charwoman (!) does not seem to have entirely laid aside all her
mundane habits.
"My first encounter with a ghost occurred about twenty years ago. On
that