We will be posting any new ghost stories we come across on this noticeboard so please visit regularly for updates on the town’s latest chilling, thrilling tales.
No wonder that ghosts enter rooms, though the doors are locked. They are provided with skeleton keys – Punch.
Banner of Belfast, 31st January 1866
A lecture was delivered last evening at the Odd Fellows’ Hall, by H. J. Wrixon, Esq. M.L.A., in aid of the funds of the Belfast Hospital, the subject being that of “Ghosts and Spirits.” The learned lecturer illustrated his subject by reference to ancient and modern history, showing the belief that prevailed at all times, and in all countries, in the appearance of ghosts; though that belief was weakened as the doctrines of the materialists prevailed Shakespeare in the plays of Hamlet and Macbeth, but gave expression to this belief, and evidently shared in it. He considered it improbable that a mere delusion could work so far on such brilliant intellects. That an indiscriminate belief in ghosts often worked on the imagination, and raised phantoms which imposed on the senses, was proved in various instances; and while he did not concur in the doctrines of the modern spiritualists, he expressed a hope that the materialism which refuses to believe in anything but that which can be seen and felt, would not take hold on the minds of the rising generation. Man’s mind and conscience led him to believe in the existence of the Supreme Being, of a destiny which he could not comprehend. At the conclusion of the lecture a vote of thanks to Mr Wrixon was moved by Mr Ingram and carried by acclamation.
Banner of Belfast, 6th January 1869
Why is a soldier who attempts to bayonet a ghost an unprincipled fellow? – Because he sticks at nothing.
Belfast Gazette and Portland and Warrnambool Advertiser, 23rd February 1872
GEELONG has a sensation in the shape of a “ghost,” which an adventurous resident of the town has “shot at.” Belfast has a sensation in the shape of a ghost, which is “invisible!” For some time past the residents of Gipps street have not been at all easy in their minds in consequence of the nocturnal visits of a certain perturbed spirit, which is said to frequent the vicinity of the stone building adjoining the wharf, known as “the woolshed.” Almost every night the credulous people who pass that way assert that they hear a variety of strange noises close to their very ears. The noises invariably are loud and thrilling; they strike terror into the hearts of the hearers, who become almost petrified with fear, for they cannot tell the source from whence the sounds proceed unless they be of supernatural origin. Numbers of people state that they have heard the noises, and all agree that the ghost or goblin “flutters round” every night after nine o’clock, when a sulphurous odour pervades the street. To the peaceable residents of the locality the affair is a terrible mystery, and children are so affrighted that they cannot be induced to pass the “haunted shed” after nightfall. It is supposed by those who believe in the supernatural, that some years ago, probably before the buildings were erected, the site of the woolshed was the scene of a “foul and brutal murder,” the perpetrator of which, up to the present time, has escaped punishment, hence the uneasiness of the departed spirit! Some plucky fellows the other night, after fortifying themselves with “spirits of the other sort,” ventured to watch for the appearance of the ghost. It came in due course, and they, as quietly, beat a retreat, being quite satisfied that “the ghost was about, and no mistake.” What creates the noises, no one in our sublunary sphere can divine, but we understand, to allay the fears of the people, it is proposed to summon a convocation of the clergy and best all-round praying men about to “lay the spirit” and drive away the terrors of the place. This was the custom in the days of our great grandmothers, and, doubtless, it would prove effectual in this instance.
Banner of Belfast, 2nd February 1876
One of the most amusing episodes that it has ever been our lot to chronicle occurred in Cox street on Friday evening last. From what we have been able to gather it appears that on the evening in question the Belfast Lodge of the Ancient Order of Druids assembled at their usual place of meeting in order to discuss their affairs. Exceptional business had to be transacted, amongst which was the initiation of a new brother, who was supposed to be waiting outside until the time arrived for the ceremony. At the appointed hour the brother, whose duty it was to act as outside guardian, left his post for the residence of the person who was about to be initiated in order to acquaint the later that the time had arrived when he must consent to embrace the ancient and mysterious laws of Druidism. Whilst so engaged one of the other members – habited in the usual long flowing white gown and patriarchal beard – kept sentry, to prevent inquisitive persons from prying into the ceremonies and discussions of this particular body. Thinking that the messenger was longer than necessary, the brother who undertook the guardian’s duty, strolled a short distance down the pathway to ascertain the cause of the delay. Whilst so engaged the attention of several small boys, who were playing in the vicinity, was called to his appearance, and immediately the cry was raised that “the ghost, the ghost,” was in sight. A gentleman, whose place of abode was not far distant, heard the cry, and at once started out, armed with a stout walking stick, with which he proposed to confront the supernatural visitant. On stepping out of his house the uproar of the juveniles at once told him where the supposed ghost was, so, without thinking further, he proceeded to either capture the fellow who was guilty of such a senseless prank or else exterminate his ghostship. In a short time he observed the ominous white gown with which it is stated these phenomena are dressed, and chased it, till the wearer took refuge in [*] room, the meeting house of the society. Still, not comprehending what the meaning of the strange conduct was, he faltered at the door, and, in smothered tones, cried “Open the door: I’ve got you now!” Finding that his supplications and remonstrations were useless, he had recourse to more forcible measures, burst in the door, and found himself, instead of being face to face with the ghost, confronting an assemblage of those whose duties were, in the early days, to preach and minister amongst the ancient Celtic nations and unlettered people of Gaul, Britain, and Germany. Those inside were somewhat astonished on finding a stranger in their midst, but after he apologised and explained the reason of his intrusion, the matter ended amicably. The Druid, it appears, on finding himself pursued, at once betook himself to the hall and [*] himself amongst his brethren with the greatest sang froid imaginable, forgetting the weird-like aspect he presented in the street.
Banner of Belfast, 16 February 1876
For some time past the peaceful residents of Macarthur have been terrified by nocturnal visits of a ghost, arrayed in the orthodox white garments. The surrounding residents and believers in the supernatural turned out several times to hunt the supposed apparition, but generally came off second best, one of them on one occasion falling from his horse from sheer fright, and breaking his thigh. A few nights ago a man of stout nerve, named Harding and a weakly creature named Flower, encountered “his ghostship[.]” Harding gave chase but Flower immediately fell on his knees and “prayed to the Lord!” Harding succeeded in catching the public disturber who turned out to be a splitter named Robert Downie, and, strange to say, his nocturnal freaks were forgiven on his promising “not to do it again.”
Banner of Belfast, 21st June 1876
We have “a ghost” in Hamilton, and weird stories are freely circulated as to how many persons have been frightened by the alleged apparition, in most cases the victims being females. The “ghost” never makes his appearance in the one place a second time, and the female portion of our population are considerably scared, and it will not be well for the person who is playing the trick if the ghost-hunters get hold of him.
Port Fairy Gazette, 16th June 1896
That in spite of the various attempts on his life the Yambuk Ghost was seen again on Sunday night strolling along Chester-street.
That if the members of the Rifle Club won’t turn out for practice under the captain’s instructions they are hardly likely to turn up for the ghost.
Port Fairy Gazette, 15th September 1903
A TRUE GHOST STORY
A young woman at a country house-party one Christmas had been thrilled with delicious horror by tales of ghosts and hobgoblins told by certain of her fellow-guests around a generous fire just before they separated for the night.
The next morning she appeared at the breakfast-table ready for departure, and when pressed to explain her reason or going, finally confessed that she was afraid to sleep under that roof another night.
She said that about midnight she was awakened by a stealthy step, and to her horror saw a spectre, all in white, at the foot of her bed, and it raised its claw-like hands and actually drew the coverlet off the bed. There was no hallucination about it, for the coverlet was gone!
While the interest was at its height, a belated breakfaster appeared, and remarked, genially:
“How cold it was last night. Knowing that the room next to mine was unoccupied, I took the liberty of helping myself to an extra covering from there!”
Port Fairy Gazette, 22nd December 1905
The Brown Hill (Ballarat) police on Monday said that some person was playing the “ghost” in that locality, and had terrified quite a number of women and children. Enquiries made resulted in the discovery of the “ghost,” which was nothing more than a horse with a white run on.
Port Fairy Gazette, 4th August 1908
Such is Salesmanship.
“It makes you look small,” said the sales lady to the elephantine woman, who was trying on a hat.
Sold!
“It makes you look plump,” she said to the cold, attenuated damsel.
Sold!
“It makes you look young,” she said to the fair, fat and forty lady.
Sold!
“It makes you look older,” she said to the slate-and-sums miss.
Sold!
“It makes you look short,” she said to the lamp-post lady.
Sold!
“It brings our your color,” she said to the feminine ghost.
Sold!
And, of course, all the hats were exactly alike.
Port Fairy Gazette, 16th December 1910
Too Much for the Ghost.
Archbishop Thomson once “laid” a ghost in a very simple way. Staying at a country house with traditions of a family ghost, he was put up for the night in the “haunted chamber.”
In the morning his hosts were anxious to know if he had seen anything.
“Oh, yes,” he replied; “about twelve o’clock I head a knock at the door. I said, ‘Come in, come in.’”
“And did he come?”
“Yes; an old sallow-looking man.”
“Yes, that is our ghost! What did you do?”
“I got out of bed and asked if he belonged to the house. He nodded assent. I asked him if he were a parishioner. He nodded again. Then I said, ‘I am anxious to build some new schools; will you give me a subscription?’ He disappeared and I saw him no more!”
Port Fairy Gazette, 15th January 1914