Unexplained Experiences

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A NIGHT IN A HAUNTED ROOM 



A good many years since, more indeed than I can cares to enumerate, I was travelling about the north western part of the colony inspecting and reporting on stations on behalf of a Melbourne corporation. The morning I left Thynne Hills, I intended making to McKezenie's Springs. 40 miles distant that night, but before I had been long on the road I was attacked with a bad bilious headache so that I resolved upon making, the nearest station although it was some distance out of my course. The nearest place belonged to an old friend, J. Brown, of Spring Hill, and was ten miles distant.

I camped under the shade of a tree during the heat of the day and made Brown's towards sundown. I was welcomed by the owner himself with ' Glad to see you my boy, you are just in time. The house is full of visitors, as we are keeping up Mary's birthday, but we will find room for you. So come along and have some dinner; that will put you straight.’ As I knew pretty well all the visitors, and as the hostess and her fair daughters were very kind, I soon felt quite at home. Under ordinary circumstances, I should have been in my element here. The place was full of young people, met together for the purpose of enjoying themselves, and how thoroughly they do enjoy themselves at a time like this, none but bush people know.

At an early hour I asked Mrs Brown's permission to retire, which she relnuctantly gave, and expressed sorrow that I could not enjoy myself, and added, ‘ I am sorry the only spare room we have is the haunted room. You will not mind I know, for you always make fun of the tales told about it.’  When the girls heard of my sleeping in the haunted room they chaffed me unmercifully and advised me to take some of the men with me for protection.

Whilst I leisurely retired, the story of how the room came to have the name of being haunted ran through my mind. Formerly the run had belonged to an ex-publican, who had improved it and built the house in which we now were. When he died the widow got the property as there was no children. A manager was put on the place, and the bereaved one went to live in Melbourne, where, after a time, she picked up with a wild reckless young fellow, who married her for her property and they returned to the station.

Here the new husband carried on top ropes-drank, gambled, and neglected his wife ; so much so, that in order to check him she drew a large sum of money out of the bank, and it, was only when he behaved himself that she gave him money. At last she took to her room—this room—and never left it alive. Several very stormy meetings had been known to have taken place between husband and wife, and he had been heard to threaten her when she had refused to supply him with money.

She died rather suddenly when only her husband was with her. A doctor was called in, who gave a certificate of death from disease of the heart. She was buried, and the matter was hushed up in spite of grave suspicions of foul play. It however, leaked out that the large amount of cash, which she was supposed to have, had never been found, and what had become of it remained a mystery.

When the room in which she died was used as a visitors room. But when the several people who had been put into it to sleep told the same tale of having been disturbed during the night by the apparition of an elderly female flitting about it came to be known as the haunted room, and was only used during a crush. I had not been long in it when my kind hostess knocked at the door and handed me a a large basin of gruel, with strict injunctions to drink every drop of it and get to sleep. I proceeded with my task, but could only manage about half of it. I placed the basin on the table by the bedside, and placed the candlestick over it, intending to finish it after I had rested awhile. I never knew how long I had slept, but I awoke with a start. The candle had a long wick, and burned dimly.

A strange uncanny feeling passed over me, and on turning my eyes over the foot of the bed imagine my horror on beholding a ghostly female figure draped in white, beckoning me to follow her whilst she backed towards the door. I was irresistibly drawn after her by some influence there was no resisting. As I got out of bed, I lifted the basin and burning candle and carried them with me out of the door, through the garden and into the horse paddock.

I followed my leader without having the power to lift my eyes off the figure before me. All at once the figure stopped, uttered two words only, 'Money Dig' and suddenly vanished. I considered awhile what I had better do and decided upon marking the spot, which I did by emptying the gruel out of the basin, upon it. I made myway back to the house in fear and trembling and turned in again.

On awakening in the morning the candlestick stood on the table where I remembered putting it. The gruel and basin marked the position of the treasure of course. As I sat up preparatory to turning out, imagine my dismay on seeing the gruel basin turned upside down on the clean counterpane, and its contents scattered all over it, when it suddenly dawned on me that I had been the victim of a singularly disagreeable and impressive nightmare.

The soiled bedcover troubled me not a little and I at one time thought of carrying it away with me, but seeing that I might be suspected of stealing it I resolved to relate my night's experience at the breakfast table, which I did later one in terms just related. During the recital I had the satisfaction of seeing the young ladies worked up into a state of intense excitement, whilst I was following my visitant about the paddock.

When I finished there was a hearty laugh, and the hostess said, Well, there have been a good many stories told of experiences gained in that room, but I must admit, the one we have just listened to is the very best that has been told. And besides that, it has the merit of being true for, when passing the room I peeped in and saw the gruel and basin lying on the position just described.

Published by Kerang Times and Swan Hill Gazette Vic. Fri 6 May 1887

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THE GHOST THAT KNOCKED

During a house shortage in a large NSW town, a family named Curren was fortunate in securing possession of a fine old home. The new owners moved in on a Saturday, retiring early, tired out with their eventful day.

About 11 o'clock a loud knocking disturbed the sleeping household. Crumbling Mr Curren rose and opened the front door, to find no one there. It was a brilliant moonlit night, and the mystified man stepped outside and looked all about, but, as he could see no one, he went back to bed, still grumbling.

Next morning, the six-year-old son said: "Mother, I don't like sleeping in that room, someone was
tapping on the window." The mother dismissed the remark as a childish fancy.

Mr Curren's business took him from home during the week; he caught the 7 o'clock train as usual on Sunday evening, and, after putting the two children to bed, Mrs Curren and her sister settled down to enjoy a quiet evening. The quiet was soon disturbed by a loud knocking, and the voice of the elder child calling: "Mother, someone is at the window."

As there was no one at the window, the sisters moved the frightened child to another room and sat by his vacated bed to await developments. The blind and lower window sash were both pulled or pushed up so that no one could approach without being seen. "

“It must have been a bird pecking at the window," conjectured one.

Scarcely had she finished speaking than the tapping recommenced, softly at first....tap, tap, tap; low, sinister, menacing, the stealthy sound struck terror into the hearts of the silent listeners. Presently the tapping rose in a crescendo of sound until it seemed that the glass must break with the violence of the raps.

Next day, Mrs. Curren informed the police, who set a watch on the house, believing that boys were playing pranks, but no one was ever found in the grounds, and the police admitted they were baffled. Then a carpenter was called in, but he could find no fault nor flaw in the window; nothing to cause rattling or knocking.

So, for five nights, two frightened women spent hours of horror waiting for, and listening to, the ominous tap. tap, that seemed so full of sinister meaning, bearing a threat of coming danger, terrible to hear.

When Mr. Curren returned on the following Friday, he was inclined to make fun of the story, but he soon altered his ideas when the ghostly tap, tap commenced. So nerve-wracking did he find it that he took his family to a local hotel; they did not return to the house. Mr. Curren and a body of interested men investigated the matter of the ghostly knocking, but could find no solution to the
mystery.

A few weeks later, a young widow moved into the house, and shortly afterwards she murdered her two children and drowned herself in the river. Although she had never complained of nocturnal disturbances, few people doubted that it was the nightly tapping and knocking that deranged the unhappy woman's mind, driving her to find the terrible way out.

Published by The Sun Sydney. Sun 28 Apr 1946

More stories to come….

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HAUNTED HOUSE IN VICTORIA

Up to February this year I would have wholeheartedly agreed with anyone that there was no such thing as a haunted house in Victoria. In February my wife and I rented a house down at Queenscliff and took our two children down for a fortnight's holiday. It is an old house standing well back from a rough bush track in about three acres of land. It is hemmed in closely on all sides by tall trees and matted masses of shrubbery.

In the middle of our very first night in the house we were all suddenly awakened by four thunderous knocks which reverberated through the darkened house, rattling the windows and shaking the floors. Every night for the rest of our fortnight's stay the series of knocks was repeated, sometimes three times during the night. On each occasion there were four knocks.

On one evening I was seated in the vestibule in the centre of the house into which no fewer than 11 doors opened. I was reading volume four of Churchill's; account of World War 2, no book could have been less spooky. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, my hair stood straight up on my head, quite literally I found as fearfully jumped to my feet facing the mirrored sideboard. And as I stood there staring at my ashen-faced reflection in the mirror the four thunderous bangs echoed through the house. Within minutes I was combing the house and the gloomy depths of the garden armed with a powerful torch and a hammer. Apart from my wife and I and our terrified children no life stirred in the house or among the great trees that leaned over it.

A day or two later a friend came down to spend the weekend with us. At breakfast after his first night there he said: "This certainly is a noisy house. What were you doing walking around for half the night."

None of us had left our beds during the night.

A day or two later I asked the woman who cleaned the house whether she knew anything of its history. She said she didn't, then added: "But I wouldn't spend a night in it for a thousand pounds, the people around here say it's haunted."

That's all that happened during our stay in this weird house. But my wife, a level-headed woman, and I, who never believed in ghosts, are united in agreeing that we would never stay here again. I don't claim any story teller's licence when I say that the whole house was pervaded with a peculiarly oppressive, brooding atmosphere.

It may be worth mentioning that there are two locked rooms in the house, leading into one another and with no opening to the grounds save one high barred window.

Sceptical friends we told about our experiences in the house laughed at us.
They said the noises were made by possums or tramps. But if the possums caused the noises why did they always make four, no more no less; crashes.

How could a possum make so much noise?

Why should the bangs echo so long through the house?
Tramps? Maybe.

But why should they return night after night to the house?

I searched the house and grounds immediately after the crashes should I see , nothing, nor even hear a rustling in the shrubbery or footsteps racing away down the road.

If tramps made the noise why should I have had a premonition of the bangs before they came?

Somebody suggested that the noises came from the hot water service, but I thought of that myself and turned it off for one night. The four loud bangs came twice that night. I spent one whole afternoon searching every part of the house except the two locked rooms. I ransacked every room, I crawled into the space under the floors and I searched the space between the roof and the ceiling. And I found nothing. Very likely there is some perfectly natural explanation for the noises that ruined our holidays. But I can't think of one.

Published by Warwick Daily News Qld, Sat 24 May 1952

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UNSOLVED MYSTERY OF THE BUSH

About three miles from the late Mr Taylor's old homestead at Lake Bonney (South-East), and several miles from Tantanoola, there once stood, on a lonely knoll, an old-fashioned four roomed stone house, which was surrounded by dense scrub. No one had lived in this house for years. People who knew its reputation shunned it.

Two rabbit trappers, who knew nothing of its history, sought shelter there one night. After their evening meal, they spread their blankets, and were soon asleep. It must have been about midnight, when one trapper was awakened by the crying of a baby. The sound increased in intensity, until it awakened the other man.

Completely mystified, they lit a candle, and began to explore the rooms. They could find nothing. After this experience they could not sleep, and they decided to leave the house. But a storm outside drove them back to shelter, and, as the crying had ceased, they resolved to remain until morning.

A few minutes later, a new development occurred. Tramping feet were heard in an adjoining room. By now the trappers had determined to see the thing out, and, incidentally, to teach any would-be jokers a lesson.

They went to the chamber where these noises were heard. As soon as the room was entered the tramping ceased, but it commenced in another room. This happened in all the rooms in turn. Finding no explanation of the mystery, the men began to feel terrified. Their fears were not lessened when, sometimes, the tramping stopped, and was replaced by the sound of feet running round the outside of the house. Finally, the rabbiters became panic-stricken, and shouted for help.

By now, strange noises were heard alternately in the rooms, outside, or under the flooring boards. Just about dawn the disturbance ceased as suddenly as it commenced. The trappers swore that for no sum of money would they spend another night in the place. The mystery has never been solved

Published by Chronicle Adelaide, SA. Thu 12 May 1932

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SOUTH AUSTRALIAN GHOST STORY

I am a total abstainer, and I have scarcely had a day's illness in my life. Three years ago a very dear friend of mine sailed for India. He was in the best of health and expected to return to South Australia in three months.

Ten days after his departure I was awakened from sleep by a feeling which can better be imagined than described. It was as a creepiness which extended all the way down the spine. I felt that there was something in the room besides my wife, but at first I could distinguish nothing.

Gradually a form seemed to unfold itself (I can think of no better description), and to my horror i recognised my friend who had so recently left us. I stared unable to speak, and then the vision, whatever it was, suddenly disappeared, melted away in fact.

I was going to awaken my wife when I saw that her eyes were wide open, and to my astonishment, she said, ' Did you see it? That was Charlie.' I pulled out my watch and noted the time.

In less than a month we ascertained that our friend had fallen overboard at sea at an hour precisely corresponding with his appearance to us, and had been drowned. This may be merely one of those coincidences of which we prate so much, but it is at least singular that both my wife and myself should have received such a peculiar impression.

I am not wedded to the ghost theory, but until some feasible explanation of that vision comes to hand neither my wife nor myself will believe other than that we were visited by Charlie's spectre.

Published by The Port Augusta Dispatch, Newcastle and Flinders Chronicle SA. Fri 15 Dec 1893

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THE GHOST WHO WALKED ON AIR

One night when fishing with three companions near Armidale, we had a very strange experience. Only one of my mates and myself actually saw it; the others were asleep at the time. Something strange awakened me. I sat up, wide awake. It was a bright moonlight night. At first I neither saw nor heard anything unusual until my roving
glance focussed on a point on the other side of the creek.

I saw a man walking slowly and apparently painfully, not more than twenty yards away. I was on the point of hailing to ask if he had any luck fishing, when I noticed something strange about him.

He was wearing a pair of trousers of a light greyish color, and had only one boot on. His bootless foot may or may not have had a sock on it. His shirt was torn to ribbons. The left sleeve was gone completely. His bare arm had a dark streak from shoulder to wrist, as though he had been wounded. A bushy beard concealed most of his face.

Instead of hailing him, i shook my nearest companion.
Paddy stared for some time without answering. "You see him, don't you?" I asked.
"Yes, I see him alright," replied Paddy.

Then a strange thing happened. By this time the man had reached a point where there was a dip in the ground. He walked across it, but remained visible from head to foot all the time. Apparently he walked on air. Up to this time, I had no sense of fear, only curiosity. But when I witnessed this performance, my hair stood on end.

Paddy must have been as scared as I was because some nervous reaction caused him to do a very foolish thing. He picked up a gun and fired both barrels into the air. At the sound of the shots the man disappeared. My other mates awakened, and demanded to know the reason for the shooting. By this time Paddy and I were quite certain we had seen a ghost. However, the others maintained that the man we saw was only another fisherman. The incident was never explained.

The World's News Sydney, NSW, Wed 23 Mar 1938

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HAUNTED ADELAIDE TERRACE

Some of the houses In Adelaide terrace are amongst the oldest in the State. They seem to stifle in their dimly lit rooms stories of a people who have passed on, people who lived in a world and time altogether foreign to us.
But if, as many people firmly believe, the spirits of another world pull eerie strings to dangle the skeletons in many a family cupboard, relating untold stories, then the occupiers of this house in Adelaide-terrace would be quite Justified in concluding that the spirits are trying to contact them.

Adelaide-terrace was named after Queen Adelaide, that beautiful but unhappy woman who was ill-treated by her royal consort and died finally in misery and distress. There seems no other reason why this old Terrace house should be singled out. Strangely enough, years ago, it was reported that at the front window of a house close by, which was at the time unoccupied, a giant hand used to be pressed every evening at dusk for passers by to see and shudder at. Its mystery was never cleared up.

At new or full moon, every night at exactly 7.25 p.m. the front door bell of this old house rings violently. It is not a continuous ring, but a mysterious, uncanny series of rings, as though someone were jerking violently on the cord of an electric bell. That is not the case here, for the bell is rung by a small knob on the outside of the door, and the residents, worked to a state of scared expectancy, have actually waited for the minute and, even as the ringing started, flung open the door to find nobody there. Nor is there anyone in the vicinity, nor any get-away.

Neighbours have heard the bell and watched; and, our informant tells us, even the police have been called In to solve the mystery. But so far a blank has been drawn.

On other occasions the lights of the house have gone out suddenly for no apparent reason. Electricians have been called in, but all efforts to find the cause have been unavailing. Still the lights remain out, only to flash on again of their own accord.

In the early hours of the morning, when there is not the slightest breath of air, windows and doors slam violently, and there is the loud noise of something clattering over the uneven floor.

One morning a lady in a room upstairs sat up and screamed as she heard her window slam violently several times. When the window was examined by others who rushed in, it was found to be securely fastened, and any movement at all was impossible.

Without anyone going near to turn it on, a tap will commence running. From the cellar below come sounds as though someone were rushing frantically about to escape a hidden horror. The obvious explanation for that would be the presence of rats. But it does not apply in this case, as no rat or trace of rat has ever been located in the building.

If anything else were needed to convince the residents that the house is haunted, they have it in the state of unoccupied bedrooms in which the beds, carefully made and unslept in, are found in the morning in scattered disorder about the rooms. The proprietor of the house has not experienced several of these uncanny and eerie happenings: but she has heard the door bell ringing the windows and doors slamming, and seen the taps running. Strangely enough, none of her children has been in any way affected by them.

But there you are. People who disbelieve in ghosts, and like most other people has yet to meet a real live one, have something to explain away in the old Adelaide- terrace house. Several ghost-layers have so far failed to put a stop to the uncanny occurrences.

Published by Mirror Perth, WA. Sat 18 Sep 1937

More stories to come….

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SISTER MARIA'S WARNING

My ghost has been so helpful, that her presence is ever welcome. Her first appearance, coincided with night duty in the incubator ward, to which I had been sent to replace the permanent sister. The duties were exacting.
The lives of the frail babes hung by a thread. There was no time to sit down, certainly not in which to dream.

The orders were to send for matron in case of emergency. In no circumstance was I to leave my ward, unless relieved by a sister.

About 2 o'clock one morning, I was surprised to see an elderly nurse at my side.
"Cover that baby quickly and warmly. You are urgently wanted in Ward B," she whispered, "I will watch here!"

Unhesitatingly I obeyed. In Ward B, I was pushed up to a cot where lay a baby boy. He had collapsed, and was apparently dead.

"Camphor quickly!" she whispered. Again l felt a push. Something lifted my hand to the keys of the medicine cupboard. The child rallied under treatment.
"A little brandy?" suggested the sister.
"Write your report and go back to your own ward, I will watch here. You shall be called if you are wanted again.

To my inquiry as to whether she would sign the report, she said, "just say Sister Maria's orders."

The night nurse, who had been an interested, if useless, spectator, went to awaken matron.
Her parting words were: "How did you know the baby was ill? How did you know where the key was hidden and where to find the camphor and things. Matron purposely hid them because you were new tonight."

In my own ward, I found everything as it should be. Matron congratulated me on the recovery of the baby, which, she said, was due to my prompt treatment, but said she regretted she must instantly dismiss me, because l had broken the strictest rule—to leave the incubator ward without a trained sister on duty.

"But Sister Maria fetched me, and helped me all the time," I said. In vain I described her as an elderly woman, with a kind, tired face, wearing a dark uniform.

There had never been anyone of that description on the staff. The night nurse was emphatic that no one but myself had entered Ward B. Very puzzled, l returned to my room.

The hospital committee which included the local minister, discussed the case that morning. They asked many questions. Finally, the minister said to me, "A very great gift has been bestowed on you. Treasure and guard it well. Be not afraid, and obey Sister Maria implicitly."

Several times since then Sister Maria has helped me.
My ghost gives me a feeling of security that I shall not fail in my duty.

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW Wed 23 Mar 1938

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SURRY HILLS HAUNTED HOUSE

The following incident happened in 1891, that is; just ten years ago ; and I have not forgotten one single detail, so vividly is it impressed upon my memory. In the early part of 91 we were living in a four roomed house in Surry Hills. It was a cosy little place, but it had one fault, it was not roomy enough for people with children.

One day, when I was paying the rent to the landlord he said to me: 'Don't you think this house is rather too small for you ? I have another house empty that I am sure would just suit you'. It has twice the number of rooms, and if you would like to take it I would take half-a-crown a week off the rent, as you are good tenants.’

My husband and I went to have a look through the house, but, strange to say, I could not get a chance to see all the rooms, as my baby started screaming as soon as we stepped into the hallway, and would not be comforted. I tried everything to sooth it, but without avail. I had to take it out into the street again, when it became quiet, and I did not trouble to go back.

We took the house, and thought we were going to be very comfortable, but we had reckoned without the ghost, for from the day we entered it we never seemed to settle down. The only room in the house we did not like was the one next the street or the front room, as it is called.

It was dreary looking and miserable, even on a bright, sunshiny day, no matter how you coaxed it to look cheerful. We thought perhaps a fire in the grate would alter things, but no, we never could sit in it longer than a few minutes at a time. If I started to play the piano I never finished the piece. If I wanted to write a letter I always had to take it into the dining-room to finish it.

The window in that room was too high for me to fasten without standing on a stool or chair, so my husband made it a rule to look to that window last thing before retiring. He has told me since we left that he never once went into that room without a cold shiver running down his back, and he is a powerfully-built man, nearly 6ft high, and one that scoffs at the idea of ghosts.

Well, it so happened that we gave up that room in disgust, and moved the piano into the dining-room, distributed the other things wherever we could find room for them-simply shut the door of that front room, and left it alone in its dreariness.

Now I am going to tell you of an experience I had in that room the very next time we used it, an experience which I shall never forget so long as life lasts. I will leave it to my readers to say whether the house is haunted, but what I am going to relate I give my word of honour is really true.

When baby was four months old it was very ill with bronchitis and a sort of wasting away. The doctor advised me to keep it in a room where I could have a fire going night and day, so that the temperature could be warm and even. I tried a fire in our bedroom, but it disturbed my husband, and kept him awake, and as he worked rather hard during the day that would not do ; so I determined to go into a room all to myself, and pitched on the empty room downstairs. I lit a fire early next morning, and had a small bedstead put up, and made everything in readiness for the night.

It was on a Saturday, and it was about 11 o'clock when we started to lock up that night. My husband then went upstairs to bed, leaving me downstairs with my baby. I am not a nervous woman by any means, but I confess I feel a bit creepy when I think of that night.

My prayers finished, I happened to look at the little clock on the mantelpiece. It was a quarter to 12. I imagined I was in for a quiet night, as baby was sleeping soundly (quite an unusual thing). I lay down and blew out the light, which was on a chair beside the bed, when immediately something seemed to either fall or strike me on the chest. I put out my hand to find the cause, and distinctly felt a hand ; but it was deformed in some way, and seemed as if covered with a stocking. My first thought was burglars, and like a shot I struck a match, which I always keep close to my hand under the pillow, when to my horror and surprise I saw a woman sitting close to me on the edge of the bed.

She had her back to me. I had time to note that she had a prettily-shaped head, with short curly brown hair. She had but one garment on (a chemise), and I saw her bare arms and shoulders as plain as ever I saw anything in my life. I remember perfectly well saying aloud, 'My God ! Who is it ?' and lighting the candle at the same time, when she disappeared as quickly as she came.

I assure you it did not take me long to jump out of bed, snatch up a blanket, roll baby in it, and grab my candlestick and off. Within five minutes of first putting out the light I was upstairs standing beside my husband's bed with a face as white as a sheet. He tried his hardest to persuade me that I was mistaken, and even offered to go down and sleep below himself, but I would not hear of him leaving me again. He said perhaps I had fallen asleep and dreamt it.  ‘How could I ?' I said, pointing to his watch at the head of the bed, it still wanted seven minutes to 12, and we had been talking, too.

Now, did I see a ghost or not ? I am under the impression that I did, as nothing extraordinary had happened during the day to excite my brain neither had I taken anything in the shape of stimulants. We moved a week or two afterwards to a better house. Some people to whom I related what had happened said it was only a presentiment, and it may have been, as soon after we buried our dear baby. I often pass that house, and nine times out of ten the board is out ‘To Let.'

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW. Sun 18 Aug 1901

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A GHOST STORY IN ADELAIDE

I, for one, have never believed in ghost stories, but I will give you a true account of what I, with my family, witnessed and heard. On Saturday evening, June 8, at 6 o'clock, there came a rap at the front door, but on going to the door, nobody was there.

It came again afterwards at the back door, a rap, rap, rap, but no one was to be seen. It then came to the front and passage windows. I then determined to try and catch the boys, who, I thought, were causing the disturbance, and got my family to remain at the bottom of the passage while I searched every hiding-place.

During my search the knocking continued at the back door, but I could see nobody. This rapping continued until half-past 10 o'clock, it was so loud that it was heard across the road, and by 10 o'clock  my house and the next one was surrounded by my neighbours and family, nobody was to be seen as the cause of the mischief.

We heard no more after half-past 10 o'clock till Sunday morning as we were going to have breakfast. At half past 7 o'clock, there came two gentle raps at the front door, answered the door, but could see no one.

Directly afterwards it came rap, rap, rap, at the back door. This was heard by my neighbours, who ran out to see if it was my door. We then searched the roof and every part of the premises, but nobody was to be seen, and whilst we stood talking at the back the rapping continued at the front door.

My little boy said the door half opened in his hand, and there were three heavy raps before our eyes. My next door neighbour stood under the verandah watching the outside of my door, and he saw the door shake with the knocks.

The back door was beaten severely, and I said — Open the door and see if it will be better but the rapping still continued, and about 10 o'clock it came to the inner doors, and remained inside the house all day.

There are six inner doors, and each one had three heavy raps. At 1 o’clock the knocking was very severe, and I had eight adult witnesses in the house who saw the doors shake with the rapping. This continued until half-past 4 o'clock.

On Monday, the 10th, it returned again about 8 o'clock, and at half-past 10 a man who had been lodging with me was in the house, and the rapping was so loud that he ran out quite frightened, and was ill next day in consequence.

I know not what is the meaning of all this, but I have given you a full and clear account of what occurred, and I only hope we shall not be troubled with it again.

As to my child, which died on the following Tuesday night, I am not going to suppose that the knocking had anything to do with my child's death; I may also mention that a friend of mine, who considered the whole affair a complete humbug, was in my house on Monday, and when the rapping commenced on the partition, he startled, and inquired if that was the noise. On being told that it was, he rushed out of the house, vowing that be would not live a day in it, and was ill all night from the fright.

Published by Dalby Herald and Western Queensland Advertiser Qld. Sat 20 Jul 1867

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HAUNTED HOUSE AT EPPING

Strange rappngs, knocks, shuffles sounds as of chains clinking and other weird noises are heard about midnight in a house at Epping. which has recently found a tenant after having been unoccupied for a long time. This is the statement of the present occupiers.

At this time the house dog begins to bark furiously, and then whimper in a terrified way. Last night these conditions were worse. Strange wailings were heard, as were creaks and rattles on the roof and sounds as of people walking to and fro around the place. When investigations were made however, no one could be seen nor could any explanation be found.

As soon as the searchers came inside, a new variety of queer noises was heard, as of something clicking. The windows and doors then began to rattle.

The occupier’s snatched very little sleep last night, for almost as soon as their eyes closed, eerie noises stirred them into wakefulness once more. All the time the dog barked wildly, savage at one stage, when he yelped as though being beaten with a whip. The house in question stands well away from other residences.

Published by Daily Herald Adelaide, SA  Thu 22 Feb 1923



THE GHOST

This is not merely a yarn "while the the billy boils," but a fact which occurred to me when in the bush. I was returning home on a bright moonlight night, after a hard day's grubbblng, thinking of England and friends far away, when I thought a smoke would be refreshing, but after filling my pipe found I had no matches.

Just as I was putting my pipe away, with a sigh, l looked up, and on the opposite side saw a man leaning on a fence, his head bent. He was dressed as a bushman, and I noticed a red handkerchief knotted round his neck.

Of course, I could get a match off him. I went forward and asked for a light, and, to my astonishment, recognised him as an old resident of the township where l was making for. As he made no reply, I took my box out to show him, and on looking up found he had disappeared.

I searched for some time, without success, finding only a knife. On reaching home I at once communicated with friends, who stated that he had gone to look for a knife he had lost. Strange to relate, he was never found, and a man with whom he had some disagreement disappeared at the same time.


Published by The Herald Melbourne, Vic Thu 22 Feb 1900



KEW GHOST

The Melbourne suburb of Kew provides the nearest approach to the traditional English ghost story.
From an upstairs window of an old house in Barker's road, the half-dressed figure of a boy was said to leap about midnight on a certain night of every year, and then, caught round his head by a tangled sheet, he is said to have been suspended a few feet from the ground.

The story is said to have had its origin in an angry scene between a father and his son, when the boy was locked in his room. He tried to escape by sliding down a sheet, and was accidentally hanged. For more than twenty-years the house was untenanted

Published by Geraldton Guardian WA, Thu 17 Aug 1950



MYSTERY OF THE BUSH

A ghost is reported to be playing strange pranks in the bush at Wangoolo, near Carcoar. A wire from that place on Saturday night last states that a family named Humpheries have been annoyed of late by hearing mysterious noises, and bewildered by the opening of doors.

It is said that when a door is closed it will fly open in their face. Mrs Humpheries, in order to test the occurrence, on one oceasion closed the door twice successively, and each time it flew open.

Since then the door has been removed and the opening slabbed up. It is now asserted that mysterious cries are heard, and the figure of a woman is to be seen passing between the residence of a Mr Layburn and the Humpheries' homestead. When approached the apparition will vanish into the water of Wangoolo Creek.

Published by The Kiama Independent, and Shoalhaven Advertiser NSW Tue 1 Dec 1903

[Headless2]

THE HAUNTED HUT

It was in the days when droving was still a more profitable and fascinating game than it is today. We had delivered a mob of fat bullocks at the trucking-yards, and I was travelling back again to the main stock route in the hope of picking up another mob. When looking out for a suitable camp for self and horses one afternoon, I sighted an old hut, almost hidden from view by shady wilga-trees, in a narrow bend of Marra Creek, in the western regions of sunny New South Wales. Just the thing I thought, a roof for myself and good ‘picking' for the horses.

Like most deserted old homesteads, the humpy was surrounded, by a patch of long, green grass and herbage.
I rode over and inspected the place. It was a weird looking shanty. Half the rusty iron roof was long blown away, and the wall facing east, and the slab built chimney, looked as if they had a good mind to tumble down there and then. Inside was a worm-eaten table and three or four broken down bunks.

The earthen floor was swarming with frogs and toads, and the walls were a mass of moss; and cobwebs; while the hard, cold ashes in the fire-place were sure proof that nobody had camped in the old shanty for years. I considered awhile, and other vermin and spiders, scorpions and other venomous creeping things of the earth mostly infesting deserted old buildings induced me to ride on and look for a more pleasant camp in the open. Monty, my cattle dog didn't seem to fancy the place either, for he sniffled suspiciously through a crack in the wall, shook his old fashioned head, as if he had his doubts about the weird old shanty and then confidently led the way, further down the creek.

I found good feed and plenty of dry wood; in the next bend; barely 200 yards away, so I  unsaddled the horses, gave them a drink in the creek, hobbled them, and let them go for the night. Then i lit a fire, and while the billy was boiling, and the chops grilling, picked some 'Australian feathers, i.e., gum leaves to lie on and generally made myself comfortable for the night. After a hearty meal I lit my pipe, and lay down and thought. It was a beautiful night. The sky was literally covered with millions of twinkling stars, and the moon was curiously peeping over a clump of dense mulga scrub. The stillness was only broken now and then by the plaintive cry of a passing curlew and the homely tinkling of my horses bells. My pipe went out, and fatigued with a long day's ride, I soon fell asleep with the dog at my feet watching over my welfare.

I must have slept several hours, when I was suddenly awakened by a gentle tap-tap on my back. It was my dog, Monty. I rubbed my eyes sleepily, and looked to see what was up. What a change! The moon was hidden, the stars had vanished, and it was pitch dark. The clear, starry sky of an hour or two ago was now covered by a mass of swiftly travelling black and dirty-grey clouds. A bitterly cold north wind was rustling harshly through the scrub, and I could hear faint roars of thunder in the distance. I jumped up, dressed hurriedly, and considered what to do.

The storm was fast approaching, and I hadn't many minutes to spare to make up my bewildered mind. The hut! Of course, the old hut was my only refuge. But again, I thought of the creeping things of the earth with a shudder. No I wouldn't camp there at any price. When inspecting the old shanty, however, earlier in the evening,; I thought I had noticed some straight poles lying round about. With two or three of them i could pitch my 6 x 8 tent in a very short time. So ordering my dog to watch my things, I hurried away for the sticks.

Arrived, I found a heap of dry saplings stacked against the leaning wall. As I stooped to feel for a straight one, it was to dark to see, I fancied I hear a low moaning sound in the hut, I straighten and listened. But then a gust of wind, rattling through the iron roof, drowned all other noises. 'Imagination,' I thought, and went on groping for the poles. But there it was again! The same peculiar sound. I listened carefully once more. Yes; there it was, and louder than before.

Now a long drawn moan as from someone in great pain, then quick, short groans, and chattering of the teeth, like the gurgling death rattle of the dying. What could it be? The whole surroundings seemed suddenly awfully lone and dreary, and somehow I began to tremble. Thoughts of things supernatural didn't enter my mind, nor did my usual presence of mind to leave. I stood still for half a minute, and then sneaked on tip-toes round to the back of the chimney.

There, through an opening between the slabs, I felt the ashes. They were cold. There could be nobody inside, for to light a fire is the first thing a bushman does when camping. Another blast of wind then shook the weird place, and then again that ghastly groaning growing louder and louder. Abject fear now began to seize me. I snatched some poles at random and quickly walked 10 or 15 yards away. From there, I was determined to solve the mystery.

I threw a handful of pebbles with great force onto the roof of the hut and anxiously awaited results. The hollow cracking noises of the stones hitting the iron roof was immediately answered by a fearful unearthly yell, followed by another, and yet another, ghastlier and more horrible even than the first. ‘Haunted’ l muttered, and dropped my sticks. For some seconds I was almost paralysed with fear. Every ghost yarn, every haunted-hut horror I had heard since childhood flashed vividly through my mind. It was awful.

Recovered from the shock I ran as fast as my trembling legs would carry me. Through bunches of prickly scrub, over fallen logs, tumbling down and scrambling up again as quick. My shirt was torn to rags, and my face and hands bleeding profusely when I reached camp. Monty, my dog, met me. He was my saviour. But for him I believe I should have died of fear that night. The sight of the faithful animal calmed me down. Language cannot express how I Ioved the old dog at that moment. He seemed to know that I was terribly agitated, for again and again he jumped up, licking my hands as if he were trying to pacify me.

In the meantime nature's elements were thoroughly let loose. Lightning, followed by terrific peals of thunder, flashed, in all directions, limbs were falling all around me, and trees cracking everywhere, so fierce blew the gale, while the rain simply poured down in buckets full. The mournful moans ghastly yells were still ringing in my ears and threatened to drive me mad. Thank heavens! my horses had strayed in the opposite direction to the hut. Snatching the bridles, I ran and caught them. They were huddled close together, and snorted and trembled with fear.

Back at the camp, I saddled up with haste, and rode off for my life. Heedless of the stinging rain beating into my face and through my scanty summer clothes. Heedless, too, of the dense darkness the falling limbs, and repeated almost blinding flashes of chain lightning. I rode all night, and never before or since did I welcome the break of day like that memorable morning. As long as I live I shall never forget that awful night.

Published by The Sydney Mail and New South Wales Advertiser NSW. Wed 1 Mar 1911

More stories to come….

[Headless2]

A HAUNTED LOCALITY

Recently the residents of Stanmore, a Sydney suburb, and more particularly one family residing in Marshall street, have been subjected to considerable annoyance and inconvenience owing to the actions of some mysterious person, who persists in throwing stones on the roofs of the houses, and attempting to open the doors.

The disturbances began in Marshall street early in the week, and with one or two exceptions, have continued every night since, and, although strenuous efforts have been made to capture the author of them, all the attempts have signally failed.

The performances started with regularity at about a quarter past 7 each evening, and were kept up with very little intermission, till very late in the night, or rather early in the morning. During the whole of the time the inhabitants of the house were in a state of terror and dismay, which was intensified one evening when a large stone crushed through one of the windows, and did considerable damage. During lulls in stone throwing, the unfortunate people in the house could hear persons trying the outer doors of the dwelling, but no one ever entered the place.

One of the plans adopted for the capture of the unwelcome visitor was to leave one of the outer doors unlocked. One of the young men of the house posted himself at the door with his hand on the knob, ready to fling the door open directly he heard anyone at it from the outside.

Presently there was silence, as if the stone-thrower was resting, and in a few seconds more someone was heard trying to open the door. The young man inside opened the door immediately, but there was no one about, and in a minute or two more stones fell on the roof.

On one evening a watch was kept by some neighbours, and they stated that although they distinctly heard someone walking in the garden in front of the house while the stones were being thrown, yet they could not see anyone. Another neighbour stated that on one evening as he was crossing over to the house, he saw a man jump over the fence into the garden, and when he looked in there was no one to be seen.

On one evening; one of the young men of the house fired the contents of a revolver into some vines growing in the garden, but there was no result. The matter was reported to the police, and a constable in plain clothes was stationed in the garden for one evening, but, as no stranger appeared, he was not sent to the house again.

Other residents in the vicinity have been treated in a somewhat similar manner, with the exception that no stones have been thrown on the roofs. The continual annoyance to which the residents in the house in Marshall street have been subjected has told on them very much, and some of them are almost worn out for want of sleep.

Published by The Richmond River Herald and Northern Districts Advertiser NSW. Fri 17 Mar 1893

[Headless2]

MURDERING GULLY

An old Chinese gold prospector, when returning to Geraldton, N.Q., with his hard earned gold dust, was murdered by the blacks. He was one of the many Chinamen who met a similar fate on the Palmerston goldfields fifty years ago. The blacks speared him from ambush, and, after taking his gold, decapitated the body.

Many years afterwards, the headless skeleton was found in a small creek, and the locality was named Murdering Gully. A lonely and little used track ran up this watercourse, a short cut to a small outside selection. Someone, while travelling along this road one night, saw the ghost of the headless Chinaman, apparently searching for his missing head. Then others reported seeing the ghost, until no one would dare go up Murdering Gully at night.

I had heard of the headless ghost, and one night I happened to visit the outside selection.
I stayed late and decided to take the short cut home. The moon was nearly setting as I made my way down that lonely, eerie track. I wore sandshoes, and my footsteps made no noise. The silence was broken only by a wallaby hopping off into the scrub or a startled possum scuttling up a tree.

The shadows of the trees and bushes falling on rocks and logs in the semi-moonlight made the place weird and uncanny. It was a lonely track. Although I did not expect to see the ghost, it was an ideal place and night to look for one. I began to think of that old Chinaman plodding along this road somewhere in this very locality many years before, with a light heart, and the naked aborigines waiting in the dark with their spears held ready, until the old man came shuffling along out of the shadow into the moonlight.
Then the hiss of a thrown spear—a scream!—a thud!

My thoughts were suddenly arrested by the sight of a white figure standing on the track about ten yards ahead. It looked like a figure of a headless man, with patches of shadow and light making the outline uncertain. At first I thought someone had played a joke and erected a dummy. But no; it moved. What was more mystifying, although it had no head, I could see it had a flowing beard, which the wind blew across its chest.

I was unarmed except that I carried in my hand a couple of good-sized stones, not that I was afraid, but I kept them just in case. I was always a good shot, and knowing that I could not maim a ghost or knock his head off, I let fly with a stone, straight at his chest.

The result was a surprise. A double surprise.

A sickening thud, a trumpeting blast, a snort, then the beat of galloping hoofs, as the "ghost" disappeared down the gully. I don't know who received the greater fright, myself or the little cream pony that was standing dozing with its hind quarters towards me on the Murdering Gully track.

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW Wed 16 Feb 1938

[KANACKI]

Hello Headless

Well done with the research you are finding interesting stuff.  I think I have found the identity of place connected to the Lake bonny story in South Australia you posted. I should be ready to post soon.

Keep up the good work.

Kanacki