Paranormal and Supernatural => Supernatural Portal => Topic started by: Headless2 on May 30, 2022, 01:11:44 AM

Title: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on May 30, 2022, 01:11:44 AM
Australian ghost stories from Trove Newspapers.


Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW : Sun 11 Aug 1901

I do not know, ‘of my own knowledge’, as the lawyers say, that Sydney has many haunted houses, or what are regarded as haunted houses, although I have heard of a number. However, I am out today to write of one house that some people say is haunted, and that I know something about, having lived in it for a year or so.

Of course the whole question as to whether I believe in ghosts is at once involved in this. I must plead that I endeavour to keep an open mind on the subject. I cannot say either that I believe or disbelieve in them, but certainly I have had a few strange experiences that, had they fallen to others, would perhaps have entirely convinced them of the existence of these much discussed (alleged) visitants. Some of the strange experiences I have had occurred in the house just alluded to, and they may prove interesting.

The house in question is one of two storeys, and after a time my family occupied only the lower portion for the reason that those who slept upstairs when first we went into the house eventually declined to continue doing so. One of these was the maid, who declared that her slumbers were disturbed. She would wake up and see a person leaning over her bed. She described the figure, which appeared just like an ordinary living being, though there was no resemblance between it and anyone residing in the house or in the neighbourhood, for that matter.

Another of those who asked to be excused from sleeping upstairs was a child of 12. This child claimed to have been visited in the same way as the maid, and described the visitant. The descriptions tallied exactly. Of course we all pooh-poohed the stories, said they were dreaming, and the usual things that are said under such circumstances. But they adhered to their stories, and both maid and child were evidently much impressed.

It was months after that, that we heard that several persons had died in the house, one of whom exactly answered the description given by those who declared they had seen the nocturnal visitor. It was suggested that the maid had heard gossip in the neighbourhood, and had imagined the rest, but this she denied. More over, neither I nor my wife had heard any story in relation to this apparition, although there was supposed to be 'something strange' about the house. The customary laughing away of fears took place whenever anything in this connection was mentioned, but there was no shaking the testimony of the principal witnesses.

My own personal experiences in that house did not come until some time after. To say they did not startle me would be saying what is not true, nevertheless we continued to live in the house, and no one was seriously troubled by fear. One of the peculiar things about the house was that we could hear noises on the stairs as though someone were walking up and down. We explained one to the other that 'of course' the noises were created by quite natural means, and they may have been, but there was no direct evidence on the point. We speculated a good deal, but could never get an entirely satisfactory theory.

However, we were not much disturbed by these noises, nor by one or two other strange sensations experienced. I was personally troubled by an extraordinary feeling of chill that attacked me on one side when in bed. The side of the bed on which I slept was along the wall, from which hung a bell-rope. I at first thought the proximity of the wall accounted for this chill, but the wall was not damp, and no amount of bedclothes or rugs placed between my body and the wall checked this cold feeling. It was as though some chilled body lay next to mine — my left side — and the sensation was distinctly unpleasant. I endured this many times, and could never account for it to my satisfaction, though I affected to do so.

I was lying on this bed one night, perhaps it would be about one in the morning when I was awakened by someone feeling my feet. The room was in darkness; my wife was asleep by my side. I lay perfectly still, listening. Again I felt my toes handled, not roughly, but almost playfully. I was scared, very scared for the moment, there was something uncanny about the touch. But I soon collected myself, and concluding that someone was wandering about the house, proceeded to investigate. I woke my wife, lit the gas, and went all over the house. The doors were locked, just as they were when we went to bed, and everyone in the house was sound asleep. This was indeed puzzling.

After discussing the affair for some time we went to bed again, leaving the gas burning. Naturally I kept my eyes fixed on the foot of the bed. The doorway was there, and when the door was open it was up against the bedstead. It was open then. The bell-pull, a long cord or rope which I have mentioned as hanging down the side of the wall, was this night thrown over the door. I presume someone of the family had placed it there; anyhow, it was in that position when I was aroused. When hanging in its normal position down the wall, it was right against my left hand.

A few minutes passed, and I was still watching the foot of the bed and the door, when my feet were once more handled. I sat up, but could see nothing unusual. But while gazing in astonishment at the bed railing where my toes reached I distinctly noticed the bell-rope over the door jerked several times as though someone were pulling it from the other side. My wife stated that she also saw this. I at once got out of bed, and made another tour of the house, with the same result as before. There was no more sleep until day light came.

Next day the bed was moved to another part of the room, and no further experiences of the kind described fell to our lot. Speaking for myself, I did not want any. Some time after we heard in quite an ordinary way that one of the persons who had died in that house had slept exactly where I did. Whether there is any connection between this fact and the others I have mentioned I do not venture to say, but certainly the whole affair seemed, and still seems very strange.

Other experiences I had in the same house were sharp loud rapping with the front door knocker in the dead of night (about 1 a.m.), with no sound of anyone coming or going, and no one to be seen when the door was opened, and the bouncing of a ball in the drawing room. The latter was rather curious. Most people, know the sound of a hollow india-rubber ball when bounced, and they will, I think, agree with me that it is a sound easily recognised. One night the younger children had been playing with an india-rubber ball in the drawing room, and the ball was left there after they went to bed.

Deep in the night I was lying awake, when I heard this ball being bounced in the drawing room. It was just as though someone were bouncing the ball on the carpet. Readers may suggest that there was a cat there, but a cat cannot bounce and keep on bouncing a ball. Investigation revealed nothing, save that the ball was on the floor, and we believed it was on a table when we went to bed. The room was locked up, both doors and windows when the family retired. And there was no cat there. I have no explanation to offer as to these happenings. I merely relate them as they did happen. I do not assert that the house is or was haunted, but merely that the whole thing is inexplainable to me.

More stories to come….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on May 30, 2022, 12:09:47 PM
Hello Headless

Cool story. I winder if this house still exists today?

Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on May 30, 2022, 10:33:06 PM

Pity there’s no leads to research these stories further.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on May 30, 2022, 10:49:33 PM

In the year 1891 I arrived in Melbourne. Rents were high and cottages scarce. After walking about for days looking for a house, I found a pretty little cottage which was to let, in Port Melbourne. As I stood outside looking at it, the woman next door came over and asked me if i wanted a house.

"Very much," I replied. "But i think the rent here would be too high for me."
She then asked if i were a stranger to the district, to which I replied that I had just come from Brisbane. She seemed pleased, and said: "I will let you have it for 5/- a week if you will promise to stay here for six months. The place is worth much more than that.”
"Why so cheap?" I asked. "Is anything the matter with it?"
"Oh, no!" she said. "But the neighbours are not nice. If I were you I would not have anything to do with them."

My husband and I moved in, and furnished a bedroom and the kitchen. The cottage had four rooms, single fronted, with a passage straight through. The second bedroom, i noticed, had a dark stain on the wall just under the window, as though something had splashed against it. I felt that I did not like that room, and made the front room into a bedroom, leaving the other empty, except for lumber.

We had lived there for six weeks, until the morning of Christmas Eve. About 9:30 on that morning I went into the room and was surprised to see a man standing at a dressing table gazing into a swing mirror. He had his back to the door, but I could see his face plainly in the glass, and a razor in his hand.

Suddenly, he drew the razor across his throat, and I saw the blood gush out from the cut and splash against the wall. Screaming, I rushed out of the house and into the landlady's home next door. "For God's sake, get the police," I shrieked. “There's a man in our house and he has just cut his throat in front of the looking glass."

Then it suddenly dawned upon me that there was no table in that room. The landlady was furious.
"You are just hysterical," she said. "I suppose you have been listening to some of the neighbours tales."
I assured her I had not spoken to anyone, and turning round saw a photograph of the man.
"Why, there’s the very man," I exclaimed, "and he's is in my place now."

"Well, it is very strange," she said, "that young man was my boarder. Last Christmas Eve he committed suicide, just as you said. But I don't believe you saw anything, you imagined it after hearing about it. I will come in with you and show you there is nothing there."

We went in. The room was empty except for a couple of bags and a box. She told me the stain was really his blood and no matter how many times the wall was kalsomined it always came through.
I took my bags out and locked the door. It was never opened again during our stay, and we left the next September. I could not bring myself to stay another Christmas, but as long as I live, I shall never forget that experience

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW. Wed 6 Apr 1938
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on May 30, 2022, 11:06:01 PM

We were located in a rich gully on the Darling Ranges, twenty-five miles from Perth, Western Australia. My boy worked in the bush. We wanted him to work nearer to home in case an accident should occur, as the only passer-by was an occasional wood carter; but the boy would only smile and say: 'You shall know, dad. I will whistle. I will whistle. Our whistle was just two notes, 'Bob White.'

Then came the war. He joined up with the 28th Battalion, was in Gallipoli, then went to France, and was wounded at Pozieres. After nearly three years service he wrote to say how glad he would be to get back.

I was working in the orchard about noon one day in June, 1918, when, soft and clear, came the whistle 'Bob White.' Not a soul was in sight. Three times came the whistle. I went to the house with dread in my heart, when the call came again, and at the door stood my son in uniform.

It was the same dear face, but looking sadder. I could not speak. My legs crumpled under me and my blood was chilled. When I had mastered myself he was gone.

That afternoon the vicar came across the block. I called to him: 'There's no need to tell me your mission; I already know.'  The boy had been killed with thirty comrades coming out of the trenches, by a bomb dropped by a German airplane on June 1, 1918.

Published by The Dubbo Liberal and Macquarie Advocate NSW. Fri 16 Mar 1928
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on May 30, 2022, 11:12:59 PM

Years ago I used to do a lot of fishing on the Cairns beach. My favorite spot was a six-foot stump of a mangrove tree, which was about 100 yards from the shore, and was, at high tide, under water. I had a little friend and admirer, a photographer's daughter, five years old, who was my constant companion. Wherever I went, my little friend trotted by my side, her tiny hand in mine. One day Betty ate some green mangoes. The next day she was dead, and I was heart-broken.

About three months later, during a wild, stormy night with the rain swishing on the roof, I felt restless and very low-spirited, and seemed to be expecting I knew not what. All sorts of confused thoughts kept whirling around in my mind.

Suddenly, I felt something cold and soft touch my left hand. As my eyes opened, a vivid flash of lightning revealed the tiny, white robed form of Betty standing by my bed. In that instant, I saw her plainly outlined against the curtain. Her dark eyes, wide open with fear, seemed to look right through and beyond me.

Then, in a queer, husky little voice she spoke quickly as though afraid she would not be able to say all she wanted. "Arthur, Arthur! The big shark! He will be there tomorrow at the mangroves! Don't go out! Arthur! Arth—" Her voice broke off as though she had been snatched away.

I must have fainted, for the sun was shining when i awoke full of the horror of the night. I told nobody, and, getting my rod and bait, I rushed down to the sea. But I fished safely from the shore and watched high tide come and cover the mangrove stump out beyond. The sea was dead calm and overhead the sky was gloomy and dark with low clouds.

Suddenly I spied a long, black shadow just under the surface of the sea. Then a great, triangular fin rose out of the water and circled the spot where the mangrove stump was covered. Twice the monster swam slowly round the stump as though puzzled I was not there. Then he vanished.

I lay on the beach sobbing with fear. I was only ten, but the miracle in the night had saved me from a dreadful death. Then a cold wind blew into my face and I knew that Betty was glad.

Published by World's News, Sydney, NSW Wed 13 Apr 1938

More stories to come….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on May 31, 2022, 01:39:56 PM
Hello headless

Wow! That Carins story was a great one. I never heard of that one.

The Sydney  Ghost story was good too. But alas I could never identity the people or the place where it happened either.

The Melbourne Story I know well. I was lucky to actually visit the house. The 1938 newspapers story recalled the haunting that happened in 1891, That was either an error of the newspaper or lapse in memory of the story teller recalling some thing back nearly 50 years ago.

The date was in 1892 that suicide too place. The alleged haunting was encountered in 1901 I suspect but both dates got mixed into 1891?,11380.msg162473.html#msg162473 (,11380.msg162473.html#msg162473)

Anyway well done with your incredible research. I look forward to your next post.

Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 01, 2022, 12:45:12 AM

This story, told to me by my grand-aunt, and announced quite true by my grandfather, now an old man of 92 years, will prove interesting, even to those who didn’t like listening to such stories.

In the days when convicts were still being sent to Australia, my grandfather lived in the bush out of Scone. One day he had a turkey house built, not far from the homestead, and every night, at about 12 o'clock, the roost whereon the turkeys were roosting, would roll round and the turkeys would fall screeching to the ground.

In later years a little room was built here, and on the stout post on which the turkey roost had rested, a little shelf was made, on which rested the candle, for this room was turned into a boys bedroom. But no sooner was the candle blown out than It was hurled to the ground, and at about midnight the bedclothes were pulled right off the boys.

Every night this happened, and one night the boys all caught hold of the clothes, but they were torn from their grasp. On some nights, too, they would blow out the candle and light a match immediately but nothing could be seen but the candle lying on the floor. One of the boys wanted to sit on the shelf and see what would happen, but my grandfather would not let him.

One day my grandmother pasted brown paper on the post, I suppose to hide the bareness of it, and in the morning the paper was rented in strips. Some people were of the opinion that a person was secretly buried there, or money, and grandfather wished to dig down and find out, if possible, what it really was, but the owner of the house would not let them.

Published by Published by The Sun Sydney. Sun 4 Feb 1923
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 01, 2022, 12:51:11 AM

This happened over fifty years ago. I was then working on a station in the Riverina district. I was sent to do some work on a lonely part of the run, and camped in an old hut. My only companion was a cattle dog. It turned bitterly cold the first night, so I let the dog stay in the hut for shelter. I put a log on the fire, bolted the door, and went to bed.

I was awakened about midnight, by hearing the dog growl. I sat up and looked to see what was the matter with him. There by the dim light of the fire, standing about ten feet away, with one arm pointing towards the hearth, was what looked like a human form with no head.

Knowing that my dog would tackle any living thing, I said, "Get hold of him, Bluey!" But the dog would not move an inch. So I grabbed my single-barrelled gun, which was close beside me and fired point blank at the headless form. Before I could slip another cartridge into the gun, the thing had vanished. I lit a candle, and searched the hut. but could see nothing. Nothing had been disturbed, except where the shot struck the fireplace. The door was still bolted.

I sat up all night with the loaded gun. I looked carefully for tracks next morning, but found none. So I packed up and went into the homestead and told the boss I would not stay in the hut for another night. He said, "I forgot to tell you that the hut is supposed to be haunted by the ghost of an old shepherd, who was found dead there. It was thought he had been, murdered, as his head was missing and was never found."

I believe what I saw, was something from the supernatural. Not long after, when the hut was pulled down, the workmen found a human skull hidden underneath a large, flat stone on the hearth.

Published by The World's News, Sydney, NSW, Wed 2 Mar 1938
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 01, 2022, 12:56:48 AM

When my grandmother was a little girl, a man and woman came to her father's house late one night and asked if they could leave a large oak chest there. They said if they did not call for it in 12 months time her parents could keep the chest. When the 12 months were up and no one came to claim it, the chest was unscrewed.

It contained an old black shirt, and rolled up in it was a woman's skull, also an empty work box.
My great-grandfather buried the skull, knowing it was hopeless to trace the people who had left the chest.
The chest was retained to keep clothes in. It was a wonderful chest, all oak and lined inside.
Grandmother used to say how she was always afraid of the chest, because she heard loud noises in the room where it was kept. She was always afraid to enter the room.

When grandmother's father died none of her sisters wanted the chest. It seemed a shame to destroy it, so grandmother moved it to her house as she was married then. But she kept the chest in a shed because she still had the same feeling about it as she had in her girlhood days. When my grandfather died, grandmother shifted to her eldest daughter's house (my mother) That is when I had my horrible experience.

Late one afternoon, mother sent me to the room where the chest was kept to get something. As soon as I entered the room I felt a peculiar sensation like some one watching me. I wanted to rush out, but I could not move. Something seemed to be holding me. As my eyes stared at the chest it slowly opened, and then all at once it banged shut. I screamed and rushed out of the room. I trembled with fright. When I was able to speak, I told my family what I had seen.

They went in and found the cover that was over the chest had slipped off and lay behind it. Now, I saw it on the chest when I entered the room. Since my horrible experience I have never been game to enter the room on my own.

Yet, strange to say, since grandmother died, we have not heard a noise in the room where the chest is. Before she died, we heard at a certain time every night a sound like the chest opening and shutting. The chest has been in the family now for more than 100 years

Published by The World's News (Sydney, NSW, Wed 9 Mar 1938
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 01, 2022, 01:07:50 AM

What I am about to relate is quite fresh in my memory. In 1892 we occupied a cottage in Surry Hills containing seven rooms and an attic. It was very old, and, strange to say, whenever I entered the door, I immediately felt depressed, and the uncanny sounds which I heard at times often mystified me. Even in the dead of night strains of music could be heard, and a noise like someone tapping the floor. A friend of mine called one day when I was out, and she declared she heard somebody playing and singing inside.

As there was a splendid view from the attic window I often stood there, but never without the feeling that some one was near me. One day, when alone, and the people next door were all at a picnic, I was singing 'The Lost Chord,' and I distinctly heard a deep, rich voice join in. I stopped suddenly, but the voice still kept on. A few minutes later an awful cold shiver ran through me as something flitted past.

The same evening a boy of twelve came down from the country to stay with us. He knew nothing whatsoever about the noises I had heard. At 10 o'clock we each retired to our rooms, and the boy to the attic.

During the night, I dreamt that I crept on tip-toe up the stairs and peeped in the open door, and, to my great surprise, I saw the figure of a man sitting by the bedside of the boy and looking at him. He wore a peaked cap, with gilt buttons on the front. He had such a ghastly appearance, and such a strange light hovered round him, that I fairly leapt down the stairs with fright. Of course, I woke up feeling terribly uneasy. However, I resolved not to mention my dream to anyone until after breakfast, because most people feel more inclined to listen to you then.

We were gathered round the table, when the boy suddenly exclaimed to my father:

“What do you think ? Last night I woke up as somebody in the room was singing. There was such a funny light all round. I sat up, and I saw a man sitting on the chair watching me. He wore a cap with brass buttons. I sang out ‘Hello' then he cleared, chair and all. I'll take my oath it was a ghost.”

I asked: “Were you frightened?”  “No,” he replied; “but I don't want to see him again. I got out of bed to see if the window was fastened. It was all right.”

The lad was healthy and strong, and not given to romancing. Then I told my dream, which corresponded exactly, and everyone admitted, it was very strange that I should dream of a ghost, and the boy should see one.

Later on I went upstairs and tapped the walls to see if I could find any hollow parts, but they were quite firm. In a few place's where the wainscot was wide enough I pushed a flat stick underneath; and raked out several little things, such as pins, buttons, scraps of paper, and a half-sheet of music, crumpled up, very old and discoloured. I tried it on the piano, but it was weird, so I burnt it.

A shop at the corner of the street was next to us, only divided by a big garden. During the day I made it my business to ask the man who had lived there many years, a few questions concerning the cottage. He informed me that it was very old, and the people who occupied it when he first opened his shop were foreigners, and that a musician rented the attic, and died there.

Several parties, to his knowledge, had been in and out since them. Of course, I naturally pictured to myself some poor struggling musician, ekeing out his existence in an attic, perhaps unknown, and uncared for. A week later we quitted the cottage, and left the ghost alone in its glory.

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW. Sun 25 Aug 1901

More stories to come….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on June 01, 2022, 02:01:21 PM
Hello Headless

Some fantastic stuff you found. For the ghost musician story for found was particular awesome. I actually found the identity of this ghost and the cottage where he allegedly haunted in 1891. The house is still here. He was a brass band leader.

Please keep the fascinating stories coming.

Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 03, 2022, 01:09:22 AM

I was hawking goods in a covered motor truck in Western Queensland. About six o'clock one evening, I was bowling along quite contentedly. I was hoping to get into a town thirty miles away that night, but the appearance of storm clouds made me change my mind, and make for a deserted building ten miles further on.

I had picked up a swagman that day, and he told me about the building. "It is quite a good place, only it's supposed to be haunted," he said. It was just about dark when we got there. Then the storm broke. We rolled our blankets down on the kitchen floor. My pipe went out and I sat up to put it near my hat and boots before getting under the blankets. A woman, dressed in clothes of the Victorian era, was pacing to and fro in front of the fire.

I called to the swagman, who was about nine feet from me, to look towards the fireplace. “The ghost!" he said. And though his words were meant to be light-hearted, I could detect a quiver of fear. We sat there watching, both of us shivering with dread, for we had to pass the fireplace to get through either of the two doors leaving the kitchen.

The woman walked to and fro with her head down, and then suddenly she knelt and lifted one of the big flat stones used in the flooring and disappeared into what looked like a cellar, the stone closing after her. As soon as the stone swung into place we both made for the nearest door. We got in the car and drove it about a hundred yards from the building into the rain. There we slept.

The next morning, at sunrise, we went back to collect our things, and, on looking at the big, flat stone in front of the fireplace found that it did not seem to have been shifted. I caught hold of it with my hands. To my surprise it lifted quite easily. Looking down into the cellar we could see the skeleton of a human being. I put the stone back into place and reported the discovery to the police when I got to town.

Although the police made extensive inquiries they could not find out whose skeleton it was. The doctor said that it was the skeleton of a woman who died from injuries on the head some years ago. Five families were reared in the house, and there was always someone living there till 1930, which seems to have been the first time that the ghost was seen.

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW, Wed 13 Apr 1938
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 03, 2022, 01:15:23 AM

This incident happened early in 1930. Of course, I cannot give the address of the house. It will be sufficient to state that it was on the outskirts of a large Sydney suburb. To this day, I can never recall that dreadful experience without going cold all over.

We had moved into a large house, attracted by its cheapness. My mother and I occupied a front room together. One night I awakened with a queer tight feeling around my heart. But I heard nothing beyond my mother's deep breathing. So at last, I put it down to dreams, and drifted off to sleep.

A few days later, mother moved to another room. About a month afterwards I was again wakened in that mysterious manner. This time, however, there was something in the room. Before I opened my eyes, I could hear soft breathing. Then I saw two points of light swaying above me. They reminded me of a dog's eyes i had seen in the dark once.

Then I realised what had really awakened me. A cold, clammy pressure was at my throat.  I screamed. How I sprang out of bed, opened the door and reached my father's room I do not know to this day. Although we hunted in every corner, we found nothing. The family finally decided I had bad dreams. My sister and I, however, from that moment permanently changed beds.

A month later, the household was awakened by terrified screams from the front room. We found my sister cowering in the corner. Exactly the same thing had happened to her. Shortly afterwards, we packed our belongings and moved. Suspiciously cheap houses were subsequently barred.

What haunted that house was a source of wonder until one day, not long ago, we were driving past it when a friend said: "Some people staying in that house once told me they believed the place was haunted." Questioning elicited the fact that the room supposed to be haunted was the front one, and we found that a madman had strangled his son there.

Published by The World's News (Sydney, NSW, Wed 23 Feb 1938
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 03, 2022, 01:26:19 AM

I was very sceptical of haunted houses till lately. Some recent experiences, however, have made me more respectful to spiritualists. I am still perplexed about it all, and will just chronicle my experiences as faithfully as I can. I moved into a house in Sydney the other week which had been newly painted and renovated. The landlord appeared overcome with emotion at my becoming his tenant, and that revived my fading enthusiasm over my appearance.

I felt curious, however, at the air of expectancy my advent created among the neighbors. After a day or two I began conjuring conjectures as to what induced so many people to take an interest in my house. They had a nasty habit of scrutinising it as they passed with a ‘who would have thought it’ sort of expression. Some even stopped and viewed it meditatively, as though they expected it to vanish any moment.

An old woman, whose store opposite I had begun to patronise, seemed bursting with information, and skirmished with me for a chance to relieve herself. But I had become cautious of her — 'How do you like your new house now ? No one stays there long. The last woman wouldn't stay a second week, and she'd paid in advance. How do you like it: now ?' — and kept a gloomy silence. I racked my brain to guess what it all meant, till— we'll, it was the fifth night, I think.

I'd just turned over to sleep when I experienced a sensation as though the bed were shaking. I immediately became all attention. Yes, there was no doubt of it, the bed was shaking. There was a kind of quiver in the mattress. It was similar to what one feels when a traction engine rumbles past, only in this instance the vibration was confined to the bed.

There was a sharp crack in the cupboard, and the distinct sound as of someone, barefooted walking across the floor. I sat up in bed and listened intently.

The room was in deep gloom, with a slash of moonlight across the bed from an upper slit in the window blind. The hush was now dungeon-like. I hadn't any superstitious terrors, since my mind had not been predisposed by ghosts yarns to fly at a tangent. I was simply alert, on my guard, determined to ferret out what the proceedings meant. That was all. 'Rats about,' I thought

Suddenly a cold breath passed over my face. I turned and glanced, instinctively at the blind, expecting to see some intimation of a draught. No, there was not the slightest betrayal of such. It gave me such a shock that I was nearly ‘spun' out of bed.

I say it, because I cannot yet rightly define what the sound was. The shrill tone of a clarionet or the top note of a violin was what it resembled. It seemed as though the sound had been blown at my right ear. The suddenness of it agitated me physically. The sense of something uncanny flashed through my mind, and would have thrown my thoughts into a panic had not my philosophical faculties gripped them.

At last, after so many abortive attempts to get into touch with spirits, my chance had come. The journalistic instinct for copy was also a grand support. I lay quite still, prepared to take mental notes. For several hours I was busy cataloguing effects of which the causes are still obscure to me.

Sometimes I heard a half-muffled shriek of a woman, sometimes a trail of musical notes, as though a concertina had been deliberately and slowly drawn out, sometimes sudden cracks and jars under the bed and in the cupboard. Once I peered cautiously round at the firm treading of a foot, but could see nothing but darkness.

On analysing these sounds I found they appeared to be in the inward part of my ear. They seemed far away, and yet distinctly clear, somewhat foggy at times. I also noticed that my body was in a profuse perspiration, with its every nerve quivering electrically, although my mind was cool, collected, resolute. Towards dawn the sounds ceased, and I fell asleep.

The next night I lay awake for some hours, but nothing occurred. Whether the open doors have disturbed requisite conditions or not I cannot say. The doors were shut on the night of the manifestation, and have since been open.

Were I a drinker I should suspect myself. But I am in splendid health, and the last to be juggled with by morbid fancies. However, I'm about to again favor the forces, spirits, or whatever they be, with every convenience to manifest themselves, and endeavor once and for all to label them

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW. Sun 5 Nov 1905
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 03, 2022, 01:43:59 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 03, 2022, 01:53:11 AM

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

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….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 04, 2022, 01:46:03 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 04, 2022, 01:53:30 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 04, 2022, 01:58:24 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 04, 2022, 02:05:47 AM


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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 04, 2022, 02:16:24 AM


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….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 05, 2022, 02:05:52 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 05, 2022, 02:18:13 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 05, 2022, 02:24:37 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 05, 2022, 02:54:50 AM

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


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


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


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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 05, 2022, 03:09:21 AM

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….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 06, 2022, 12:40:13 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 06, 2022, 12:47:59 AM

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
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on June 06, 2022, 12:49:41 AM
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.

Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 06, 2022, 12:53:43 AM

Among stories of the Australian bush connected with so-called "ghosts" is one of a most remarkable character, the scene of the incident being on the border of New South Wales and Queensland near the coast. I am detailing the particulars as given to me by a man who has extensively travelled this and other countries. I have reason to have every confidence in my informant. He did not set the ghost personally, but he heard it.

It appears that an old man, on one of the out stations in the above locality, went to town and purchased a new suit of clothes. He brought them home to his hut, and there died alone.

A working mate subsequently appropriated the clothes, and took them to his own dwelling, some distance away.

Shortly afterwards the ghost of the deceased old man came in the night and demanded the clothes in silent but expressive language. He got them with little trouble. They were promptly taken back to the hut by the would-be thief, and placed on a box on the wall.

After that many travellers came to the hut at different times by night to camp, most of whom, seeing the new suit of clothes in the deserted building, vowed that when leaving in the morning they would take them.

On each occasion the spirit of the dead man walked up to the door of the hut more than once during the night, with such terrifying effects upon the would-be thieves that they hastily decided to change their minds concerning the apparel. In time the hut came to bear such a name that all travellers avoided it, and the clothes remained there for years.

My informant and his mate were compelled to seek shelter in it one night, and the latter-a young immigrant-discovering the fine check suit, cheerfully announced his intention of an nexing it the next morning, but two appearances of the spirit of the original owner within an hour or so soon made him turn his thoughts in an honest direction, while he cowered, trembling, beneath his blankets.

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW  Sat 12 Mar 1910
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 06, 2022, 12:59:42 AM

Haunted houses of Sydney (as per last issue of the 'Sunday Times'), I wish to write my experience.
Eighteen months ago I was living in a suburban cottage, which I found to be what is termed haunted. The front room was a bedroom, in which I slept; the next was unused for some time while I was living there; next another bedroom, forming a rather long hall.

It was some months after I went to live there before I had any unusual experience whatever, except a feeling of unrest at night if I happened to lie awake, which I often did. But one night I heard footsteps in the hall passing to and fro outside my door. I listened, but all again became quite still, and I thought no more of the event.

Some weeks passed, and I was again disturbed night after night by soft pattering footsteps outside my door, and many nights I felt sure some person was pushing my door slowly open; but as I always kept it ajar I gave up the thought, thinking it was foolish to be so nervous.

Time went on. I said nothing to the lady living there at this time about my fancy (as I then deemed it), but said I should like to move my bedroom into the next room, which was then empty. This I did, and felt more comfortable, being next door to the room where the lady slept.

Two nights passed in comparative peace; but, to my horror, I found I had moved into the very room where the ghost had his abode. As soon as the room was in darkness, from the far corner away from the bed the figure of a man, dressed in working shirt, dark trousers, felt hat, and sleeves tucked up to the elbows, came towards me with gliding footsteps. I lay terror-stricken while, he stood bending over me with his thin, wasted fingers stretched out. Then he would move towards the door and disappear.

This went on for weeks. Some nights he would stand at the door and lift both hands above his head as if to strike. At last I became nervous, and felt ill. I spoke to my lady friend. She had seen nothing, and laughed; but I was forced to leave the house and the 'ghost' behind.

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW Sun 18 Aug 1901
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 06, 2022, 01:06:03 AM

On Meryula Station, over 30 years ago, there was an outstation known as Coocoomah ( place of stumps ). Standing anywhere around its single hut like building, one's "view" was that of a sunburnt plain, with a far flung fringe of trees for a border, and, in the mid distance, a wire fence.

One day, being alone on the place (a fairly common experience for bush wives), I was sewing in the house, when I heard the sound of a fast galloping horse. Thinking it was merely someone from the head station, I did not trouble to put my sewing aside. I heard the sound cease, as if the rider were negotiating the fence gate, and then it came on with renewed vigour, and stopped dead at the side of the verandah, out of my sight, as though the horse were pulled up short.

When the rider did not put in an appearance at the door, I got up to see what he was doing, and, to my surprise, no one was in sight. I went around the house, but the plain was bare of any living thing. Completely mystified, I told my husband on his return, and was laughed at for my pains. "You dozed off and dreamed it." was his solution.

On another occasion one of the men was awaiting his return, and the sound again recurred.
He said to me, "Here he is now," and went outside to meet him, only to come back again with his mouth open.

My husband was still inclined to treat the matter as a joke, until one Sunday, when we had nearly finished dinner, the "horse" was again heard approaching, and he said with a smile, "Just In time to be too late." I smiled also, because I had recognised the sound, and sweetly replied, "Yes, dear ! Go out and see who it is."

He went out, to come in again quickly, saying. "Well that’s funny."
“It is,"said I, "It's the horse I've been telling you about. But are you quite sure you did not doze off and dream it?"

The sound recurred a few times while we were stationed there; always exactly In the same way, finishing at the same spot. I cannot explain it. In conclusion, I might add that the usual old bushman's theory that it covered a murder, and that the body would be found buried where the horse stopped, was never tested out, at least not in my time; the ground was too hard.

Published by The Sydney Morning Herald NSW  Sat 26 Oct 1935

More stories to come….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 09, 2022, 12:30:23 AM

Perhaps one of the oddest stories to have come out of the Illawarra region and surrounding areas is the ghost bear of Jervis Bay Road. A local coach driver reported having seen what he thought to be a large, white bear crossing the road in the middle of a dark and lonely night. Such a sighting would cause any educated mind to raise a brow at such a tale. Although the press were quick to label the animal as a polar bear, or at least similar to one in appearance, it became startlingly clear that this was no ordinary animal.

Queensland Times Ipswich, Qld Tue 16 Dec 1919 reported the following….

From Wollongong comes a story of a prowling polar bear. "The Sun's" South Coast correspondent describes the strange appearance of the animal in a sworn testimony for the benefit of those who investigate psychic phenomenason accredited evidence only. 

He says:- Mr. George Dent, sen., who drives the daily coach between Nowra and Huskisson (Jervls Bay), reports a strange experience on the Jervis Bay road. He was accompanied by a lady passenger, well-known in the locality, and of high repute, who directed his attention to a white object crossing the road some little distance in front of the coach.

He describes it as a white fleecy cloud, or a mass of snow, about the size of a large bear, seemingly wafted across the thoroughfare without touching the ground, and it was clearly discernible some distance across a cleared patch in the paddock, until it was lost to sight in the bush.

A resident of Nowra, named Connolly, who claims to have had varied experiences with the bear tribe in foreign countries, is under the impression that it was a white bear. He has seen the same species of bear gliding along, and it would appear as if it had no legs.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 09, 2022, 12:37:08 AM

Although I have never professed to believe in the supernatural, I once had a peculiar, and unexplained experience. I had secured a job in a country district, and once a month, on my week-end off,  l used to ride to a friend's place, five miles away. About half-way was a cemetery, and as I was passing the spot one Sunday night, I heard a faint patter of footsteps behind me. I looked round, but could see nothing, although I could have sworn that l heard heavy breathing, almost like a dog panting.

Feeling a little eerie, I had set my horse into a canter, when suddenly, the air was shattered by the mournful howl of a dog. Deciding that there evidently had been a dog, I thought no more about it until the following month when my previous experience was repeated. This time it was bright moonlight, but, though I pulled my horse up, could not see the dog which l felt sure was trailing me. Nevertheless, a few moments later, I heard again the weird howling of a dog.

Next day, I happened to mention my experience to my employer, and a curious expression flitted across his face. "I've heard that yarn before," he said, "but as the people who told it were naturally superstitious and knew the history of the dog, I didn't put too much faith in it”

Pressed for an explanation, he continued. "Some years ago an old man who, for years had lived alone except for his dog, died. The old dog wouldn't leave the body, and it took two men to pull it away and tie it up. When the hearse left the cottage, the dog howled and strained at its chain. Evidently it succeeded in smashing the chain because, just as the coffin was being lowered, the dog rushed up to the cemetery. It had run six miles, and it proved too much for the poor brute. He just dropped dead. Since then, several people say they have heard its ghost howling or trotting down the road near the cemetery, but personally, l have not had the experience."

He may not have, but I had, though it was not repeated, for after that I chose road which did not
pass the cemetery

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW Wed 6 Apr 1938
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 09, 2022, 12:42:15 AM

Returning from their camping holidays along the Honeysuckle Falls section of the Fish River, fishermen report having heard a series of mysterious sounds and splashings at night from the vicinity of the "Black Hole," allegedly haunted by the ghost of a woman who was drowned there many years ago.

Under the shadow of that tragic happening the pool has long been shunned by fishermen, who have heard the story of the ghostly figure which is supposed to come walking along the top of the water each Christmas time. So persistent, were the uncanny noises this year that one camping party moved further down the river towards Oberon in order to avoid the locality, even though the Honeysuckle Falls section is noted for its good fishing spots which are readily accessible to vehicles.

The story of the "Black Hole" has long been a legend of the Tarana-Sodwalls district, many tales of "seeing evidence" that the locality is haunted being recounted. Prior to the outbreak of the recent war, fishing parties explored almost every yard of the winding river which traverses some of the most rugged areas of the Great Dividing Range.

According to reports, one fishing party, camped there over Christmas, none of its members had heard the story, and reported hearing weird sounds at night, while the party's pet dog refused to venture anywhere near that section of the river. The pool itself is particularly deep and obtains its name from the dark, still nature of the water, which according to old residents, has never been accurately sounded.

At one end is a large sloping rock under which the drowned woman was reported to have been caught. Fishing from this rock on Christmas Eve, a resident of Sydney said he became aware of an evil influence which prompted him to return hurriedly to his camp, subsequently he and the other members of the party moved further down the river to where a party of Lithgow fishermen told them of the rumors surrounding the "Black Hole."

Some residents thought they had put an end to the stories when they saw a platypus swimming in the pool one day, but shortly afterwards the mammal was found dead on a sand bar and the noises from the river continued each night.

Others advanced the theory that the unusual splashing noises were due solely to the water passing into the pool through a rock formation which represents a series of small waterfalls. However, this theory too, was discounted when residents pointed out that the noises heard, were intermittent and of varying intensity while the water flow was constant.

Not far away are two deserted houses, one of which was occupied by a family supposedly related to the woman who was drowned in the river. Rumor has it that she went swimming alone and was not missed until she did not arrive home at lunch time. By nightfall a search party was organised and police located the body with grappling irons three days later.

The area abounds in snakes, mostly of the tiger and brown species, both of which are very deadly, while wild life is plentiful in the more inaccessible sections. Not far distant is the rocky outcrop known locally as the "Crown of Tarana," which serves as a prominent landmark and was widely used as a bearing point, for aircraft on training flights from R.A.A.F. training schools.

Whatever the explanation for the unusual noises reported by this festive season's fishing parties, the "Bunyip of the Black Hole" has once again succeeded in frightening parties of fishermen away from one of the best trout fishing spots on the whole Fish River.

Published by Lithgow Mercury NSW Wed 12 Jan 1949
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 09, 2022, 12:47:01 AM

It was merely to tell you of a circumstance that I heard of during a recent trip up the Border district of Victoria, which, if true, seems to bear out the spiritist theory. I tell you the tale as it was told to me. I have no reason to doubt the facts, but I am unable to offer any explanation. The person who saw the supposed apparition is a clergyman, now resident near Melbourne. He did not tell me about it himself, but I heard of it from two or three different people to whom he had told it. I can offer no explanation other than that it may have been an optical deluson on his part, a mere trick of his brain.

The clergyman was staying at a station for the night, and on retiring to his room for the night, before getting into his bed, sat down to write some notes. Whilst thus engaged, he happened to look at the window, and saw a man with a red smoking cap on his head looking in at the window in a scowling manner, his gaze being directed towards the foot of the bed. Thinking it was some of the men belonging to the station prowling about, in order to play some tricks upon him, he resumed his writing without taking any notice, but again looking up, the face was still at the window. Feeling uncomfortable, he went to the window, drew down the blind, and retired to bed.

The next day, on turning over the leaves of an album in the house, he saw the identical face of the man who he thought had been looking in upon him the previous evening. He said to a person in the room that, that was the man who was walking about his window and looking in at him the night before, but was assured that such could not be the case, as the person whose portrait was before him was dead. The clergyman, on hearing this, said no more on the subject.

The next day, on visiting a neighbouring station, saw barring up in the passage a red smoking cap, which he identified as belonging to his visitor at the window. He enquired who the cap belonged to, and was told that it was  ( the person whose portrait he saw in the album )

I omitted to say that the room occupied by the clergyman when he first saw the face was the room occupied by the deceased for years. The clergyman knew nothing about the deceased gentleman, and had never even heard of him. It is a queer story, coincidence, or whatever it may have been.

Published by The Ballarat Courier Vic. Sat 1 Apr 1882
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 09, 2022, 12:56:00 AM

Many years ago I was on record that there are sent as a reporter to investigate strange happenings in a little shack on the bank of the West Australian Murray. The hut, it was very little more, was occupied by an elderly man and his seven year old granddaughter.

According to the story the old man told, the place seemed suddenly to come under some crazy influence. Drawers opened, knives, clothing, and other items were thrown about with verve and abandoned, pictures flew off walls and an alarm clock floated from the mantlepiece on to the nearby table.
There was a lot more to it than that, but there you have the essence. I was award of "poltergeistic" phenomena supposedly the work of mischievous spirits, almost invariably associated with the presence of a child in the place haunted. Hundreds of such affairs find their way into the records of the psychic research societies each year, and most of them are listed as "unexplainable."'

This case was classic. On my first interview with the grandfather, and with Lorna, the child, nothing at all happened in the hut. Nothing happened on three other visits, when I came back with the publican from the nearby town, and a policeman.

But on a fourth visit, when the publican and a divinity student (he had been holidaying nearby) were with me, we were given the shock of our varied lives. We had been talking quietly with the old man, taking a cup of tea. At about 4.30 p.m Lorna came from school.

Just as she entered the hut a tin canister flew from the dresser, whizzed past her head, and fell to the floor. Although the lid was loose, none of the contents of the tin spilled. A few moments later a cloth covering a small table pulled itself slowly off  - l say - “pulled itself," for the publican and I both searched for hidden strings and passed knives completely around the cover. There was nothing.

Then a picture dropped slowly from its hanging about 6ft above ground level. It fell upright, and leaned back against the wall, its glass intact. Drawers did open. Articles were thrown about. And for all our careful search - which included a sharp check of the old man and Lorna we could find no evidence of trickery. As seems to be the rule in poltergeist manifestations, the phenomena stopped when the child was sent from the hut.
They began again as she entered.

Published by The Argus Melbourne, Vic. Sat 11 Sep 1954
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 10, 2022, 12:48:34 AM

An uncanny story comes from Launceston, Tasmania. Some years ago, a well known Victorian civil servant, whose widow still resides in a Melbourne suburb, had occasion to pass some months in the town. As neither him, nor his wife cared for hotel life, he rented a house. A maid had been engaged, and the couple had just become
accustomed to their new quarters when one evening the maid, as she was about to enter the dining-room with the evening meal, emitted a shriek, dropped the tar, and collapsed in a dead faint. With some difficulty her master and mistress succeeded in bringing the girl round; but she was very agitated, and kept repeating, "I won't stay here, l must go home."

At length, when she had become somewhat calmer, she told them that, just as she was about to go into the dining room, she had glanced down the passage. The door of a room at the end, which was usually kept shut was open, and within she had seen distinctly the figure of a little, old man, with a face like a withered apple. He was wearing a black skull cap, and was writing in a book, at the same time making extra ordinary grimaces. As the girl insisted on leaving at once, a cab was procured, and she was sent home.

The couple did not attach much Importance to the girl's tale, thinking it had been merely an hallucination, and engaged another girl. For some days everything went well, till one evening the new maid, just as the first had done, shrieked, dropped the tray, and also fell fainting in the passage. On coming to, she told exactly the same story as the first one had told, and her description of the man whom she asserted she had seen corresponded in every detail with that given by her predecessor.

Next morning Mr — went to the agent from whom he had taken the house, and demanded some explanation. The agent, who had come out of his office said:—"You've come just at the right time, for the owner happens to be here and ushering the indignant tenant into his office, he introduced him to his landlord.

The owner admitted that the house was rumoured to be haunted by a former occupant, Captain S—. The captain, who had been an enthusiastic botanist, while living in the house had been compiling a work on his favourite subject, and, when perplexed, was in the habit of grimacing in the manner described by the two maids. Their description of his appearance, the landlord also admitted was correct.

It may be of interest to state that Captain S-—, who had served in South Africa under Sir Harry Smith, was responsible for the introduction into Australia of several plants from that country. Included amongst these was the boxthorn so often utilised for hedges

Published by The Australasian Melbourne, Vic Sat 14 Dec 1929
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 10, 2022, 01:02:04 AM

Two young men of this town report a strange circumstance which befell them on the morning of August 22, a couple of miles out from Narrabri, in the vicinity of a deserted station dwelling which has always been reported "haunted." Years ago a shepherd was believed to have been done away with in it for his money.

Many people do not believe in what are known as "ghost" stories, but this is merely a matter of opinion. These phenomena are generally termed "ghosts," but the correct expression should be the reappearance of the spirits of the dead. These young men are positive in their statements, and the writer, to whom they came with their story, has satisfied himself that they are telling the simple truth and nothing more.

They were driving out to work—rabbit catching—at half past four in the morning, it then being bright moon light, and treeless country. Quite distinctly they saw ahead of them, a man standing perfectly still by the roadside. They expected him to move, but he did not. The wheels of the vehicle went within 2ft of him, but he remained perfectly still. When close to him they could plainly see a white bandage across his forehead, that he wore dark clothes, and was a big man. One said, "Good morning" civilly, but the figure made no reply.

The driver, not altogether appreciating the situation, whipped up his horse as the figure was passed.
Then both naturally turned back to have another look at the ghostly figure.
It had disappeared; gone in a flash while you could say "Jack Robinson” as it were.

Yet there was absolutely no place of concealment about. The locality was all open country. The men drove on to work, and returned later on. There was no trace whatsoever of anyone having been about the locality, and no one lives within a mile of the spot. The figure or whatever it was, had disappeared, as if the earth had opened and swallowed it up.

It is a matter of fact that a couple of miles, from the spot a shepherd was some years ago murdered, his remains being discovered in the chimney of his dwelling. The police had charge of the matter. The man's skull had been completely smashed. The young men of this narrative are hard-working, intelligent, sober, each 34 years of age, and the fathers of families.

Published by The World's News, Sydney. Sat 5 Sep 1908
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 10, 2022, 01:11:09 AM

The richest pearls in the world have been discovered off the coast of Broome, but that is not Broome’s only claim to fame, it has the best haunted house in Australia.

Old and weather worn it stands in a lonely part of the town. Natives shun it and Japanese and Timor pearl divers make a detour of miles rather than pass it at night. But one man, a West Indian of 60, is about to try conclusions with the spectre. He has seen the ghost, at close quarters, he claims, and says he will be able to handle it next time.

The ghost is stated to be that of a wealthy pearl buyer who died about 20 years ago. Occasionally, Broom residents say he wander's around his old house at night, sometimes with a cow bell in his hand.

Recently the old West Indian dreamed he was at the haunted house. He saw the ghost, which pointed to the floor and exclaimed, "My Treasure!" before disappearing.
"It's a pile of pearls and I'm going to get them," the old man said.

Some months ago the West Indian, accompanied by a well-known Australian author who, was visiting Broome, went to the house to commune with the ghost. According to the local story, they saw it. The West Indian cleared the fence outside the house in his stride, but the author did not see the fence and hit the timbers, hard. He suffered abrasions and shock. The author swore he was also struck in the back by a cowbell according to the story. Broome residents still point to the broken fence. They are eagerly awaiting the West Indian's quest.

Published by Daily Examiner Grafton, NSW Wed 7 Apr 1937


A ghost story in New South Wales belongs to a very old hotel in one of the Hawkesbury River districts. It is alleged that periodically the spirit of a young exile climbs the ancient stair case and haunts one particular room. The old legend is as follows.

The founder of the house was a magistrate, and he was a hard task master. More than a century ago he was the means of having the death sentence imposed upon a young convict, who vainly pleading for mercy was duly hanged under the direction of the magistrate.

Even since then, at various times of the year, the ghost of the young exile ascends the stairs to beg for mercy in the magistrate's bedroom. Altholugh nobody is known to have seen the apparition, there are still plenty of river folk who believe in it.

The writer occupied the room once without being aware of its history, and he certainly had a most unpleasant experience. It was not so much the sobbing and sighing noises, and the sound of a door opening and shutting, these might easily be  attributed to natural causes. It was the inexplicable, mysterious, almost conscious feeling that somebody else was present in the room. It made sleep impossible, and many a level-headed person recounts the same experience.

Published by Northern Star Lismore, NSW Wed 18 Mar 1925


Mrs Anne Nugent, of Rockbeare Grove, Ivanhoe, said today that she and her husband often walked down Cemetery Lane, Corowa, during their courtship. The lane had the reputation of being haunted, “a story that had something to do with a motor car."

She and her husband laughed heartily one night when, walking down the lane, they saw the bright lights of a motor car approaching.

"It vanished before it came level with us," said Mrs Nugent.
"We searched everywhere, called out, and didn't see a single soul.
"The headlights were very bright. We are positive we saw them. It was very eerie."

Mrs Nugent said that on another occasion she and her sister and a girl named Lillian Shreck went to an hotel in Dromana to work for the holidays. They were given a room at the top of a narrow stairs which led to the kitchen and dining room. It contained three single beds.

One night they had locked the door, and put the light out when they heard tap tap tap up the stairs, someone in a great hurry indeed. We waited. The door opened about 9 inches and the light from the hall streamed into the
room. Then the door closed without a noise and all was quiet.

I asked the others If they had heard anyone coming up the stairs. Both said they had. It was locked, I got up, put on the light and found the door was locked. I got into bed with my sister for the night.

Mrs Nugent said that next day they were told by other members of the staff that some time before two men in the kitchen had argued. One had chased the other up the stairs and stabbed him. To The Herald, she added: I'm not spooky and didn't know of the trouble in the hotel before this happened. The other two can verify the facts.

Published by The Herald (Melbourne, Vic. Sat 13 May 1950
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 10, 2022, 01:18:59 AM

Another extraordinary tale from New South Wales is of the ghost of Paddy Welsh's wife at the Nine-mile Bend from Tolarno, on the Darling. It was related to me by a well-known and much respected pioneer of the district.
In the seventies there were a stockyard and a deserted hut at the bend. A young man, ran of a physician, had recently arrived on a station on the river to acquire colonial experience.

Shortly after his arrival he was sent to take a small mob of cattle to a squatter in the neighbourhood. With night, a bank of clouds that had been working up all day broke in a heavy-downpour, and. having heard that there was an old stockyard and a hut at Tolarno, he headed the mob for the bend.

When he had yarded up his cattle and unsaddled and hobbled his horse he took shelter in the hut. He was
agreeably surprised to find that someone, possibly a passing swagman, had stored dry firewood in the nut. Having made a fire and boiled his quart pot for a much needed drink of tea, he unrolled his blankets and turned in.
For some unaccountable reason he could not sleep, and lay watching the fire, which he was too lazy to replenish, gradually die down.

Suddenly he was struck by the actions of his dog coming over beside him, the poor brute crouched down, whining and shivering, as if in a paroxysm. Thinking it might have been poisoned, the young man arose and threw some bark on the fire. As it biased up he was amazed to see a woman in a print dress seated on an empty case before the fire. He spoke to her, but no sooner had he done so the the figure vanished. Though the young man was by no means of a nervous temperament, this was too much for him. Rushing from the hut, followed by the terrified dog, he ran for a mile before he halted. He spent the night in a hollow tree.

Next evening when he had delivered the cattle, the owner inquired where he had camped the previous night.
“At the Nine Mile Bend from Tolarno."
"You didn't camp in the hut, did you?" asked the squatter.
"Yes," replied the young man.
"Well, you're the first man who ever camped there who hasn't pitched some yarn about having seen a ghost."
"Well," said the young man, "I didn't intend to mention it, but now you've brought up the subject, I may say I did see a woman in a print dress." And he described his uncanny experience.
"Well, I'm full up of these yarns. There be no more of them, for I'll have the place pulled down," his host

A few days later when two of the hands were sent out to demolish the old hut they found under the flooring the skeleton of a woman. It was clothed in a print dress, and was later identified as that of the wife of Paddy Welsh, who with his wife had occupied the hut some years before.

Published by The Australasian Melbourne, Vic Sat 14 Dec 1929
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 10, 2022, 01:25:15 AM

A roofless, tumble down two storied house facing New Norfolk road, with its back dose to a reed grown portion of the Derwent some miles above Bridgewater. A more depressing looking place as l last saw it, towards the end of a dull, grey winter’s day, it would be hard to conceive.

Many years ago a newly married couple lived in this now ruined abode. Fortune seemed to smile on the pair. The young farmer was prospering: owing to the enormous demand for all Tasmanian produce created by the number of miners on the Victorian goldfields, and his beautiful young wife was more than content, for she knew that she soon was to 'fulfil a wife's highest duty.'

Suddenly the husband became insanely jealous. Whether there was any real cause for his doubt of his wife’s fidelity is not known, But incessant brooding on the possible paternity of the expected child drove the unfortunate man to frenzy.

One night, some weeks before the infant was to have seen the light, he cut his beautiful young wife's throat. Stealthily carrying the body down to an outhouse, he put it in the wool-bale, which, having weighted with stones, he sank among the reeds.

At that period - most of the merchandise from New Norfolk was carried by water, and in addition to the regular steamers, several small craft were engaged in the trade. It was not long after the murder before the crews of the river boats were all talking of a mysterious blue light that was to be seen hovering over the reeds in the vicinity of the house.

An astute constable, connecting this story with the disappearance of the young woman, induced the authorities to have the river dragged. The corpse of the luckless wife was discovered. On being interrogated, the husband confessed the terrible crime and was executed in Hobart Gaol. When a boy, I have heard an old captain of one of the New Norfolk steamers assert that he often had seen a bluish ball of light hovering over the reeds as he passed up and down the river.

Published by The Australasian Melbourne, Vic Sat 14 Dec 1929

More stories to come….
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on June 10, 2022, 02:42:21 AM
Hello Headless once again great stuff. In fact fascinating. I have been looking up the stories trying to find out more trying to identify people and places involved. I found a few things but alas its late and old Kanaki's eyes are hanging out of his head.

Once again well done Kanacki.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 11, 2022, 12:38:12 AM

On the different roads, in this country, particulaily during the old carrying days, men were often killed in different ways, and ever after the spot where those men were killed would be declared haunted. Beyond the Darling River, going towards Old Tibbooburra, one time a carrier, who had a big supply of rum on board, had started in to broach cargo, with the result he became incapable of handling his team of horses approaching Dead Man's Gully.
He attempted to put the brake on his waggon to steady it down into the gully, when he slipped, and fell, and the waggon did the rest.

Dead Man's Gully was a favourite camping place prior to that but after this man had met his death every effort was made by carriers to cut out the camp by altering their stages. It was not because the man had been killed there that they did this, but because of after events.

One dinner time Paddy Reigan, returning empty, pulled his team up at Dead Man's Gully for his midday meal.
A few hours later another traveller found Paddy dead at the side of the wagon. He had been kicked by his horse. That was death number two. Still no notice was taken of the event.

Less than two months later a waggon overturned at the Gully and the blackboy, who was an offsider, was killed by the falling load. And then a rumour got about that old Jim Dennis who had camped in the Gully had heard awful screams and cries in the night, which made his night horse break away and it was then put down as a haunted camp and was avoided as much is possible.

But if any person was belated there, they all had the same weird tales. The question often arises amongst men whether the bush breeds these fancies or not, or whether there are some sounds that can be construed into resembling the anguished cries of dying men.

Published by The Brisbane Courier Qld Mon 13 Apr 1925
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 11, 2022, 01:00:05 AM

At one time a mail ran down the creek from Windorah to Mt Howard. It was in those days a four horse mail and passed in through Keeroongooloo Station via Keeroongooloo outstation and then on to Mt Howard, where it went then does not matter. At the outstation of Keeroongooloo it is stated a tragedy occurred one night when the four grey horses attached to the coach bolted and disappeared over the channel bank into a deep waterhole and were drowned and all on board with them.

The reasons given to day for the incident are colourful and diversified and each person telling the story has his own theory about the whole matter. However the point that I want to reach is the fact that there are hundreds of men who have travelled the back of beyond country who maintain that the old camp is haunted and a once favourite camping ground conveniently situited between two main stations, has been shunned for years and rarely will any one be found camping there unless it be a stranger and these men come away with some peculiar stories of what they have heard in the night. These stories are not engendered by any help from Western rum, because the camp is far away from any source of supplies, and long before any boozer got to the camp the effects of a
spree would have worn off, so that there is some other agency at work.

Jerry O'Dowd had camped at the spot one night, or at least he had camped part of the night at the old place. Jerry had not heard the stories of the haunted hut, so that what he experienced was unthought of. Jerry had traversed nearly every beat of the far West, camping in the lonely spots for months on end, and had never had the slightest experience of supernatural visitations before; and it remained for him to gain some experience at the Keeroongooloo outstation that lasted him for many a year.

It was a dark night and far away to the westward a big storm was raging, and it caused a kind of eerie feeling for Jerry; and apart from the storm, the mournful howl of hungry "dingoes" in all directions was sufficient to make
the feeling worse. Jerry had at last got to sleep, but it was not long before he became awakened by the sound of hoof beats and the rattle of wheels, swingle bars, and chains, just the same as would be caused by a team of horses in full gallop.

Out he comes, and he swears to this day that he saw four white horses and a light coach go galloping by, and disappear over the bank of the channel. Jerry never stopped to find out the result; his swag was thrown together, horses were caught, and Jerry struck for Mt. Howard at full gallop, nor did he camp any more till he reached Mt Howard station.

There are other men who have camped at the old outstation who swear that they have heard the rattle of the coach and the hoof beats, and there are men living to-day on stations beyond the Cooper who will tell you that these are nightly happenings. How the hallucination comes into effect is beyond the comprehension of anybody. There is no possibility of a practical joke being played, and there is no one in the vicinity to play it. Horses become restless when they reach the spot, and are inclined to hasten onwards. Jerry O'Dowd's dog whined and trotted about the fire after sundown.

Published by The Brisbane Courier Qld Mon 13 Apr 1925
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 11, 2022, 01:16:08 AM

The spot was a tumbledown dwelling by Sandy Creek, or rather right at what was known as Sandy Crossing.
It had formerly been used as an hotel. A long ramshackle place with a low front verandah, and numerous tumbledown out-buildings. It was on the Great Northern road, which, in those days, practically commenced at Maitland and ran through to the heart of Queensland.

The house stood a couple of hundred yards back from the road, with dense timber growing up to within a few yards of the small paddock and enclosure adjoining the buildings. It was known far and wide as the Haunted House, and was given a wide berth by all travellers who knew the route in those parts. Itinerants who had not heard of it, occasionally sought its shelter for the night; but, without fail, in every instance, they hurriedly quitted it before morning, very often minus half their scanty belongings. They all told the same tale to the settlers down the creek, tales of unearthly noises, of swiftly passing footsteps, and the creaking of the boards all over the place.

The legend of the Haunted House by Sandy Crossing was the mysterious disappearance of a governess who taught the publican's children. She was said to have been a most beautiful young woman, with raven-black hair, an amiable and accomplished lady, and in those surroundings far below her station in life. She had, by some mischance, drifted north to these desolate parts, with the ebb and flow of the human tide.

The publican, in spite of being possessed of a good and dutiful wife, became madly infatuated with her. Pending his passion unreturned, he sought solace in drink, as many men do, and to that extent he made the place a perfect hell; and the quiet governess was forced to give notice of leaving. She retired to her room one night as usual, and was never seen again. The whole country was scoured, and the services of the police requisitioned; but no trace nor tidings were ever found of her.

Gradually after this, strange tales came from travellers who stopped over night at the house. They had been awakened from their slumbers by piercing screams, and the most intense cries of anguish, cries as if from a human being in pain and suffering. The publican had never been the same man since the lady's disappearance. He would sit and brood for days and days, speaking to no one; silent and moody, like one with some terrible weight on his mind. Then he would take to the drink. Finally, to shorten the story, business sank to zero, and he and his family passed out, drifting away, no one knew where. Thus abandoned, the house which had been his own and on freehold land, fell to decay, and in a few years was tumbling down, the shrubs and thistles and the briars smothered its fallen walls.

Often as a boy I had to pass by it coming that way from visits with my people to the settlements farther north; and I was always glad when we were well past it, particularly at night time. Many tales came from the deserted house, but somehow no one ever saw fit to deliberately spend a night there, and find out what really constituted the tale of it being haunted. But, certain it was that the story of the cries and screams and other noises did not alone come from the casual traveller. Never a man working on either the stations above or below the place, who had to pass near it by nightfall, but came in having either heard the most dreadful noises or screams, or seen some strange, silent, moving figure passing from one part of the house to another.

But the most tragic and memorable incident occurred when a pedlar, passing with his pack on his shoulders, was compelled to seek shelter in it out of the blinding storm of the night. He was not aware of the story connected with the place, but he made his bed down in the night. A comparatively young looking man, with brown hair, and when he left it in the morning it was snow white, and he turned up at the station on the south side of the creek a doddering decrepit man (for the time being, anyhow) who looked as if he had viewed some awful sight. He had to be tended and cared for, for a few days, and then sent in to the hospital in the township 20 miles away.

But he told his story before he left the station. He said he went to bed, and had been awakened a little time after, by the most awful shrieks and cries, as of some human being in agony. He sat up in bed, transfixed with deadly fear. He could not move, and the cold perspiration broke out on him. Then he heard movements in some part of the house, as if something were being dragged over the floor a couple of rooms away. The sounds gradually grew fainter and fainter, as if the movements had ceased.

All was silence for one moment, then one prolonged human shriek sent the chill of death to his heart, and he swooned into unconsciousness. He came to his senses in the early dawn, and made out of the place with feeble haste. He did not investigate; his only thought was to get away from his surroundings.

Yet one more incident, a stripling station hand, had to come by the haunted house near dark one night on his way home from searching for some straying stock. Sheer curiosity led him to ride close up to it. We could never get him to say exactly what he saw, but it was a figure of some kind which came towards him in the gloom with arms outstretched, and uttering the faintest of cries. But this was enough for him. He dug the spurs into his horse, and galloped the full six miles to the station without drawing rein, and flung himself from his panting and foam covered horse on to the verandah of the men's hut. He could not speak for a little time. It is a full quarter of a century ago, but I am in a position to record he has never fully recovered from the shock, and probably never will.

All traces of the haunted house are now removed; no vestige remains to mark the spot where it stood; but residents and travellers in those parts yet retail its legend.

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW  Sat 7 Nov 1908
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 11, 2022, 01:35:51 AM

This is the true ghost story that comes from a country town in N.S.W.  It is quite frequently that we hear of one or more mysterious happenings in connection with a ghostly visitor, but in this case the manifestations were
numerous and of a most alarming character.

John Sommerlad was a wealthy pastoralist, but distinctly not of the pioneer variety. He had arrived in N.S.W about 50 years ago, and after making a fortune in the agency business in Sydney retired to the splendid Riverina property of Longlands, which he had purchased from an impecunious squatter. Longlands was a fine old property, and the homestead was one of the most up-to-date in the State. It had all the conveniences of a city establishment, and was built amongst beautiful surroundings.

Tiring of country life after a little time, John Sommerlad went on a tour of the world. The collector's instinct which had made a fortune for him when he was in the agency business was still with him. During his tour abroad he developed this flair for collection. Amongst other things he brought back with him on his return to his station home was an old fashioned bedstead of genuine antique which he had paid a big price for in Christie's, London.

A tall old four poster, which dealers had placed as belonging to the Eighteenth century and of a rare variety, probably old Italian. The top of the bed was intricately and elaborately carved with snakes, lizards, and Gargoyles, intertwined with each other in a marvellous way. These figures stood out with life like reality. John had this bed put in a special guest room together with other period furniture to match, which he had picked up whilst abroad. To add to the old world touch he had a suit of armour placed in the room also.

About this time a business friend of Sommerlad’s came up with his family from Sydney to spent a few days at Longlands. And then commenced the most remarkable happenings which are still the talk of the district. The visitor, Carl Blenheim, was not an imaginative man by any means. A German wool buyer, he was noted for his business astuteness and his friends would have laughed had it been suggested that he was a person likely to be addicted to over imagination.

One beautiful summer night he stayed up on the verandah with his host until close on midnight. Then he retired to bed. Just as he was dozing off to sleep he heard a queer sound in the room like a woman's sob. It was pitched in a low key, but seemed to be a very penetrating sound. He rested on his elbow in the big Italian bed, thinking it was some outside noise which he had heard. The sound was repeated exactly as he had heard it before, only this time he was quite sure it had come from the painting on the wall. It was another of John's Art treasures and depicted a beautiful woman of the Medici period.

Springing out of bed, Carl lighted the candle and looked intently at the picture. He ran his finger over the surface. It was a picture, and nothing else. He was about to blow out the candle and get back into bed when a puff of wind from the open window extinguished the candle. Not bothering, to light it again, he turned once more to his bed and stepped back in amazement.

In a sort of luminous light of unearthly brilliance, his bed stood out from the darkness. The elaborately carved headpiece was alive. The snakes, gargoyles, and lizards were winding and twining themselves into all sorts of intricate patterns. The glittering eyes of the lizards seemed like tiny pin points of light, and the gargoyles mouths worked in fantastic fashion.

Remembering the dreams of an absinthe-drinking friend, Blenheim was prone to put this sight down to some trick of the eyesight. Some queer hallucination. He thought of his host's excellent port, but remembered that he had drunk only two glasses.

He approached the bed and touched the moving mass. He drew back terrified. The thing was alive. His hand had come in contact with the cold, scaly body of a serpent moving in the general design. There was no mistake of that. As hurriedly as he could, he found the switch and flooded the room with light. In the brilliance of the electricity, he went carefully over the room and especially the bedtop, but in the light it was just an elaborately carved piece of woodwork, and nothing more. He was intensely surprised and non plussed, but slept no more that night.

He was about to tell his host of the strange happenings of the night when his attention was attracted by another matter. His host's face was drawn and haggard, as if he too had spent a restless night. So he said nothing, and waited. Later in the day Sommerlad, in a casual way, broached the subject. And then it all came out.

Blenheim was not the only one who had been disturbed by a ghostly vistor. Sommerlad had been roused by strange noises during the night, and woke up with a start, to find a beautiful woman bending over him and wringing her hands. She was dressed in old-time costume, the replica of the girl in the picture in Blenheim's room. When he called out she disappeared. They decided to keep matters to themselves in case the news alarmed the womenfolk.

But that afternoon the housekeeper came in to see Sommerlad. She was in a pitiful state of distress. She said the kitchen was haunted. Strange noises were heard during the day. The pots and pans would start jigging on the stove, doors would open and close, and heavy footsteps sound on the floor for no explained reason. The kitchen man had been pelted with coal, and articles had disappeared from the kitchen, to re-appear in some other part of the house. This sort of thing went on for several days. The woman in the house had also been visited by strange apparitions. Almost every one had seen the weeping Medici girl, and had their repose spoilt in other ways.

Blenheim and Sommerlad decided to wait up one night and see if anything happened. They waited in the period room, from whence seemed to emanate all the manifestations. Turning off the light, they waited in the semi darkness. A guttering candle burned near the open window. How long they waited before they fell into a doze they can not say. But they both were awakened by a strange noise in the room. By the dim candle light they saw a strange sight.

The bed-top was literally writhing with life; the strange bed designs had come alive again, and the strange light burned around it. By the sided of the bed stood the girl of the picture. She was wringing her hands and sobbing. They stood terrified at the sight. The appeal in her eyes was not to be misunderstood. Apparently she was in great distress. She pointed dramatically to the bed, and then to the candle, and made other motions which they understood her to mean that the bed should be burnt. Then she disappeared.

The next morning the two men took the bed out into the paddock, and, covering it over with petrol, set a light to it. It burned and crackled fiercely, and, as the flames leapt over the ornamented bed-top, the watchers fancied they could see strange lizards and serpents interlacing through the design as the flames reduced them to ashes. There were no more strange happenings at Longlands. The repose of the visitors was no longer disturbed by ghostly visitors.

Looking back over the incidents, the party mostly concerned, John Sommerlad, often wondered what strange course he brought back with him in the old Italian bedstead, and what connection the girl of the Medici picture had with its strange history.

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW Sun 18 Mar 1928
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on June 11, 2022, 12:35:13 PM
Hello Headless some great stuff. Some I have not heard off some I already posted.

The Huskison story was interesting. about 20 years my friend was visiting his father at falls creek near Huskisson . His father had a property there. there was big bushfire he and dad and uncle remained to fight the fire. As the fire came towards them roaring like a jet engine as it suck air into the flame. Kangaroos snakes rabbits foxes came fleeing through the smoke across the property fleeing the fire in panic. Well out of the smoke a camel came running out and ran over his uncle breaking his hip.

So after the fire passed and the house saved the neighbors houses was both destroyed. And they made an insurance claim with his uncles injury. What happened "oh a caramel run me over." It must of been the most unusual insurance claim.

Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on June 11, 2022, 12:51:54 PM
Dang my eyes  "camel run me over"


Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: KANACKI on June 14, 2022, 12:21:51 AM
Some great stories you have found I am trying to find out more about them.

Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 16, 2022, 01:26:09 AM

On bush tracks where settlers homes were widely scattered, one frequently came upon a "haunted hut," not only in the big timbered regions of the eastern side, where mysterious sounds and weird bird cries kept the lonely camper listening, but far outback where those sounds were absent. On the long stock routes there were many places that were known to drovers as haunted camps, where the quietest cattle, which gave no trouble elsewhere, refused to settle down, and would stampede perhaps several times through the night. The haunted hut was always empty. To most people it was known as a deserted hut.

There was a deserted hut at the foot of a range, a one-time out station called Tanumba, where the body of a stockman's wife was fished out of a waterhole with flat irons tied round her neck. There was also the ghost of an old man, who had vanished thereabouts when the blacks were supreme. He was always sitting on a log, mending his trousers.

There were other huts where strange things happened that changed the views of hundreds of travellers in regard to ghosts. One stood by the road below Kyogle, when that place was only a station homestead. It was a strong one roomed hut, with a wide chimney at one end. Its spectral inhabitant had been seen and described at different times by many persons who did not know at the time that the place was reputed to be haunted. Neither were the men known to each other. Travellers who knew the road camped in the open.

Further up, the mailman's track across the range was known from the earliest times as the haunted track, and Mount Lindsay as the haunted mountain before the first whites came there. When Tooloom diggings broke out, a shanty was opened by a man named Carney between Noogara and Koreela Creek. An old digger, who had £80 on him, and was travelling with a horse and cart, stayed there one night, and next morning drove on up the range. Some time later the horse came back with the cart. The old man was picked up dead on the track, but his money
was missing. After that, according to travellers tales, the "chock-clock" of a ghostly cart was added to the nightly sounds along the mailman's track.

Wyagdon Hill, on the road between Bathurst and the old Turon goldfield, was known as "The Haunted Hill" from the roaring fifties. The strange caperings of horses from time to time when crossing it kept the superstition alive; and there were many local people who preferred a roundabout route to riding over it at night. A mounted trooper named Codrington was murdered on the summit in 1858 while waiting to join the mail escort to Bathurst.
Having that tragedy in mind, travellers might imagine things at night, but what about the horses?

Bottle Forest, on the Illawarra Range, was also avoided by the superstitions at night. The only mystery about it was the single footprint of a child, impressed on a solid rock, the toes and general outline being as clear as the mark that would be left on stiff clay. Old blacks spoke of it as "the little man of the forest," and none of them ever camped in the vicinity.

Here’s a 1932 newspaper article.

There are many strange things in the bush that no one can account for, and one of them is the footprint of a child, impressed on a solid rock at Bottle Forest, on the Illawarra Range. It has probably been there for ages. Old blacks speak of it as "the little man of the forest," and none of the tribe has ever camped in the vicinity. It may possibly be a freak of nature, but the toes and general outline of the foot are very clear, just like the mark that would be left on stiff clay. People who see it generally look for the mark of the other foot, but there is only one. As might be expected, the place has a "haunted" reputation, and superstitious folk give it a wide berth at night , like the

Dinner Creek, on the old road between Grafton and Glen Innes, was known as a haunted creek from the time
when there was heavy carrying between those places. A murdered teamster was found near the ford, with the bullock whip still in his hand, and wearing a cabbage-tree hat. Many people who camped at the crossing saw the ghost of that teamster walking along the bed of the creek, and carrying his whip; and if he was seen without his hat it was said that disaster would overtake the traveller. That was alleged to have happened to several teamsters, and eventually that crossing was shunned as a camping place. Teamsters contrived to reach it about midday, and thus the name Dinner Creek.

Haunted cattle camps were as plentiful as haunted huts. There was one near Eromanga (Q.) where we had a lively time one night with a mob of Bulgroo cattle. Trouble started early in the first watch, when the mob suddenly
sprang up and bolted. They were brought back, but very soon they were off again like, a mob of mad beasts. After several rushes we had to put them on a fresh camp, and there they settled down. The place they objecteted to was a nice clump of trees on a clear flat.

We were told in the town next day that no cattle had ever been known to camp there through the night. It was also mentioned that some one had been murdered there many years before. Old warriors of the overland didn't take much notice of that. They could generally tell restful country, and on strange roads they went ahead to pick the camps. But they believed that cattle could see things that humans could not. They avoided the known "haunted camps," and the vicinity of aboriginal graves.

Published by The Land Sydney, NSW Fri 12 Jan 1934
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 16, 2022, 01:33:26 AM

To the year 1883 belongs the honour of witnessing the advent of the first ghostly visitant at Warragul. It is now a month or two since it became rumoured that one had been both seen and heard inside a certain little cottage situated upon a property, distant about a mile from the Warragul Post Office, and now owned by a well known and rather popular resident of our district, who is also known as the proprietor of more than one celebrated racehorse.

The house itself has for some months been tenanted by a Mr. and Mrs. C— with a family of young children, and some six weeks ago Mrs. C— became the mother of a female infant, the only peculiarity about which is that the child is a remarkably small one, about half the size of an average baby.

Now it would appear that this lady was the first to both see and hear the apparition. At different times she called the attention of her nurse, an assistant nurse., her own husband, his sister, two male lodgers and the members of her own family to the phenomena, and most of them are positive that they heard distinctly the sound of light
velvety footfalls though none besides the lady herself were able to see anything.

She, however, is quite certain that the sceptre was seen with great clearness by her own eyes upon a number of different occasions. Upon one occasion when stooping to pick something off the floor besides the sofa, she was horrified to find it sitting just in front of her, and on it starting up and vanishing through a closed door. The figure is described as that of a tall spare man with light grey beard and moustache, its usual time for appearing is between two or three o'clock in the morning. As the visit of our re-presentative to the locality was in broad daylight we are unable to present any occular demonstration to our readers. The motion made by the Goblin is described by Mrs. C— to be rather a gently gliding, one more like skating upon ice, than the stepping of ordinary mortals.

Now here the only little bit of contradiction in the tale comes in. With this peculiar and graceful
mode of transit, how about the very distinct footsteps heard by so many upon different occasions?

The only present explanation that can be given of the ghosts nocturnal visits is that, according to the oldest inhabitants in the locality, there stood near the present house in the scrub days a little paling hut, from which, an old man suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. There was also a well a few paces off that was shortly after wards filled with earth and a new one dug close by Mr. C— is determined to have the old well cleared out directly he can find its exact whereabouts and a search made in hopes that some clue may be afforded to the appearance of the first Warragul Ghost.

Published by Warragul Guardian and Buln Buln and Narracan Shire Advocate Warragul, Vic Thu 2 Aug 1883

Just three years later, another strange story was published in The Warragul Guardian on the 27th of May, 1886


There has been considerable excitement in Warragul, Buln Buln and the neighborhood lately owing to a ghost having made its appearance in a gully near the farm of Mr. H. Rodgers. The apparition having been seen by more than one person, a party of four started one night to hunt it, the leader being armed with a gun.

Suddenly the spectre appeared when the man with the gun dropped his weapon and fell down in a fit, while two of his companions ran away, and the third, after running some distance, returned and assisted his leader home. Such an effect was produced on this man that we hear that he has had more than one fit since, and will not now sleep in a hut by himself.

The young ladies in the neighborhood are disconsolate, we understand, because their lovers will not dare to visit them after nightfall. We were informed on Saturday last that a large party had been made up to go and hunt the ghost and that members of the rifle club had been requested to join in, but as the riflemen subsequently declined on the ground that as the price of ammunition had been raised, they could not afford to expend any on ghosts, the scheme fell through.

For the sake of the young ladies whose distress we have referred to above, we think some of our gallant defenders might turn out and see what the ghost is made of. They can have the loan of the devil from this office if they promise to return him safe and sound.  The members of the party actually started to hunt the spectre last Monday night, and who no doubt would have succeeded had their courage not failed just as they approached the cemetery.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 16, 2022, 01:46:19 AM

Len Johns, one of the Champion apprentices, who is enjoying a holiday writes to the Champion staff as follows, from Tivoli State School, near Ipswich:

Now I am going to tell you a story. It is a ghost story, better than "Our Ghost" in the Champion, and what is more, this is a true one. Now for it. Andy Wright took me down their new shaft, which is at the other end of the tramway bridge. He took me pretty well all over it. We went down in the cage. As the driver of the engine had gone home when we went back to the foot of the shaft we couldn't go up in the cage, so we walked up the tunnel to the air shaft, and then climbed up the ladder about 20 feet.

I told my brother about it, and he said he would like to go down. I had a couple of pit lamps, and we went over about eight o'clock at night. It was pitch dark outside, no moon. I had to take the lead. There is a galvanised wall around the mouth of this small shaft with a small door to crawl through. We couldn't light our lamps till we were in the tunnel for fear somebody would see the light. I can tell you I felt a bit queer stepping down into the dark hole.

We managed to feel our way down to the bottom of the shaft-20 feet. We went down the tunnel about a yard, and there lit our lamps. Before that, when we were getting down the ladder, my brother who had a cocoa tin full of kerosene, and I happened to be looking up towards him at the time managed to pour half the contents over my face by accident, of course. We got down as far as a sort of a junction (about 50 yards-downhill all the time) where one tunnel joins to the other. Here there is a bag hanging down to keep the draught. The other tunnel is an old worked out one. He was very much afraid that there was bad air the other side.

Before I go any further I must inform you that this tunnel connects with the old "Eclipse" pit ; that the " Eclipse " is said to be haunted on account of the men being drowned in it at the time of the big floods ; that down the haunted pit strange knockings are said to take place every night, like as if somebody were dropping a hammer against a piece of hard coal, said to be the ghosts of the seven men that were entombed, trying to get out of the pit.

He knew nothing about this, neither did he know that the tunnel oonnected with the haunted pit, the " Eclipse." He was asking me was I sure that the air in the tunnel, over which the bag was hanging, was not impure air, when "Hush listen! Was that something knocking ?
" Yes, it is," says I, forgetting for the time about ghosts, haunted pits. " It is only the water dropping from the roof  of the tunnel to the floor," says I.
At the same time I thought it sounded rather loud. " Pull back the bag," he says to me, " and stick your lamp through and have a look in."

I did. Ahead all was dark, gloomy, and weird; not a sound, save the tap, tap of what we thought was the dropping of water. The noise was going on as regularly as if done by clockwork. I was about a yard ahead of him, and as I said before, all was dark, gloomy ahead. About two seconds after I pulled back the bag and shoved my lamp in; the knocking suddenly ceased. Just as sudden the thought struck me about this tunnel running to the haunted pit, 150 yards away, and about the ghosts at their usual work.

It was about nine o'clock at night. I did not let on to my brother about being afraid, nor did he notice the knocking suddenly cease. I said, " I think we had better not go in there, there might be impure air, at the same time great beads of perspiration rolled off me, and my legs commenced to shake and feel very weak, and my teeth
commenced chattering like a box of ivory dominoes. I felt very glad when I saw that he did not seem to notice me in such a state. He was in front walking up the tunnel, and I was behind him. Had I told him on the way up about the ghosts, a panic would have taken place and we would have made a rush for it, and perhaps fallen over and killed ourselves. As it was, I scraped all the skin off my back against the roof through not stooping enough. All the time I was in a terrible agony of fear.

At last, we reached the foot of the shaft. He blew out his lamp, and told me to do likewise. I wouldn't.
"You old goat," says he, "somebody will see us coming up if you don't."
I then told him about the ghosts, the passage to the " Eclipse," the strange knocking, and how it suddenly ceased when I drew back the bag and shoved my lamp in. We then made a bolt for it, and managed to scramble in the darkness up the ladder, and jump outside. On the way up a bat hit my leg, I let out a scream, and nearly fainted with fright. I would not go down that place with only one bloke with me for anything, no, not even for a safety pneumatic-tired bike. I forgot to tell you that my lamp went out when half way up, and I could not strike a match as all round us was so damp. I hurried on to him and got a light from his lamp.

Published by The Western Champion and General Advertiser for the Central-Western Districts Barcaldine, Qld
Tue 14 Jan 1896
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 16, 2022, 01:52:09 AM

A story from Tasmania relates to the B— family ghost. In the thirties the B— family took up land in the Midlands. In those early days, squatting was often a hard struggle and at first B— and his young wife resided in a house, but little better than the one provided for his hands. As the flock increased, however; and the outlay inseparable from taking up Virgin country ceased, the owner began building a fine stone house, which still stands, though no longer in the possession of the family.

Mrs. B— was anticipating the birth of an heir to the estate, and as she watched the building progress, she yearned that her child should be born in the new house instead of in the unpretentious cottage down by the river. The
desire soon possessed her entirely. To gratify her, though the building had not been quite completed, she was installed in one of the rooms, and there her twins were born. In giving them birth she lost her life.

Though many years have elapsed since the house passed from the possession of her family, the ghost of the ambitious young wife is said to linger still in the home she so ardently desired to occupy. Several guests of the present owner maintain they have seen the figure of a woman in a wrapper standing by the window of the room in which she died, while others assert they have seen it ascending the staircase leading to an attic.

Published by The Australasian Melbourne, Vic Sat 14 Dec 1929


Old residents of Carlton will recall the legend of the Grattan street ghost. In the fifties, at the corner of Grattan and Leicester streets, there was a large area of land enclosed by a high wooden fence. On it the over landers used to yard their cattle before taking them into the sale yards.

In those days many of the drovers carried considerable sums of money, belonging to the men who sent them out to purchase fat stock. In a house close by, a drover was found murdered, and there are old residents who will tell you that they recall the time when many people in the locality would not venture out alone at night, especially when there was a bright moon, as the rumour was current that at such times the ghost of the murdered man, booted and spurred and stockwhip in hand, might he seen wandering up and down.

Published by The Australasian Melbourne, Vic Sat 14 Dec 1929


It is a common thing to hear of haunted houses and scenes of alleged ghostly visitations in country districts. Probably the most extraordinary of these "scenes" occurred at Springfield Station, Burrowa, N.S.W.

A fine, new stone house was suddenly vacated by its occupants, who alleged that the place was the scene of weird night lights and noises which could be caused by nothing but visitations from the spirit world. Several people who laughed at such nonsense, volunteered to remain in the place overnight, but were soon convinced of the presence of an invisible something.

Swagmen even got to know the place, and consistently refused the shelter of its inviting rooms.
Perhaps the most remarkable phase of the whole thing, was that cattle and sheep, which were running in the paddock, could not be induced to camp anywhere near the house after dusk. The place was eventually demolished.

Published by Crookwell Gazette NSW Wed 5 Sep 1928
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 20, 2022, 01:07:32 AM

It was very nearly opposite the stable entrance of the old Red Cow Inn, in George street. It stood for many years, a most melancholy looking wreck, in the most busy part of this, the principal street of the pretty little town of Parramatta. The dilapidated building was the more remarkable from its appearance being marked contrast with the neat houses and well kept gardens that surrounded it.

There was a small enclosure in front of the house, where once there had been a garden, but the railings were broken down, the gate hanging hopelessly by one hinge, the plants smothered and strangled by the rank grass that grew unchecked and uncropped upon the ground, for animals of every kind, even to the wandering goats seemed to shun the spot.

There was a verandah to the first floor, forming a portico to the ground floor, but the woodwork that composed it was rotting and crumbling to dust, and the paint had long since peeled off and disappeared from it. The glass in the windows was nearly all broken, and the sashes were all but falling to pieces. In fact, nothing could well be more wretched and miserable than its general appearance, and nothing could better come up to the idea of a haunted house.

Of course it was haunted. Everybody in Parramatta at the time I speak of— some twenty five years ago—knew it, and could swear to it. The youngsters would no more think of walking past it after dark, and even grown people regarded it suspiciously as they passed. Noises had been heard and things had been seen in the house, which from the very vagueness of the accounts given, lent a deeper mystery to the whole affair.

My friend, from whom I have this account, and whom I will call Fox, was exceedingly sceptical about ghosts in general, but more particularly about this ghost. So many tales and rumours reached him on the subject when he set himself to inquire into it, that at last he and another equally as sceptical as himself determined to beat up the quarters of the ghost, and to see what he was really made of.

There is one peculiarity about ghosts, and that is, that they have a morbid prejudice against appearing to two persons when in each other's company ; and as Fox had from his reading learnt this, he and his friend decided that one should remain on watch in the street, whilst the other awaited the appearance of the spirit, if there was one, in the house, and held a private interview with it. I will now, as nearly as I can remember, narrate, in Fox's own words, the circumstances that occurred.

'Midnight,' said he, being the orthodox time at which ghosts usually appear, my friend and I proceeded to the house at about half-past 11. There was no difficulty in entering, for the windows which were what are called French-lights, were all broken, without fastenings and partly off their hinges. We examined the door, but that was perfectly fast, the catch of the lock and the ends of the bolts being so rusted to the ironwork into which they fitted, as in each case to form one solid piece, and so to be immovable. The same might be said of the back door, and the one window at the back had a shutter to it, which we managed to secure.

After this scrutiny my friend left, and then as well as I was able, I closed and secured the front windows. This I managed to do in such a way that they could not be opened wide enough to admit any person without sufficient noise being made to put me on my guard.

It was a bright moonlight night, and as I passed through the different rooms everything could be seen almost as clearly as by day. The appearance of the rooms was anything but encouraging, and, although I had not the slightest dread or thought of any supernatural appearance, I confess that I wished that my friend and not I had to pass the stipulated hour in such uncomfortable quarters. The plaster from the ceilings and walls had nearly all fallen down upon the floors, where it had rotted and formed a thick coating of soil.

Having taken the precautions I have mentioned, I went upstairs and visited the rooms above. These I found to be even more ruinous and wretched than those below, for the leakage through the roof had added very materially to the general decay.

The stairs as I ascended cracked under my tread, bending at every step as though they would have given way with me. The windows, however, were in a better state of preservation, so upstairs I determined to keep my watch. I looked out, and under the portico of the Inn opposite, I saw my friend walking to and fro, with his eye on the house. I filled and lighted my pipe and sitting on the window sill had a smoke.

I had hardly finished it when the bell of St John's struck midnight. I looked out and saw the Inn shut up for the night, and as the door closed with a bang, I felt for the first time a sensation of— I hardly know what to call it— but a kind of uneasiness creeping over me.

What caused it I could not say, but uneasy I certainly had become. My first pipe had made the time pass over pretty well, so I determined to try the effect of a second. I drew out my knife and tobacco, and was cutting away at the latter when I heard a noise at the street door. There was no mistake, it was some one putting a key into the lock.
‘ You won't get much good by that,' thought I, as I remembered how the door was bolted and the ironwork rusted but the thought had hardly passed through my mind when I heard the lock turn and the door open. The key was then taken out of the lock, and the door again closed with a loud bang.

'Hilloo!' thought I, 'what does this mean?  I thought the wards of the lock were immovable.

I went to the head of the stairs and listened, and plainly heard footsteps in the passage.
‘ It must be Alfred,' thought I ; so I called him by name, but received no answer. The footsteps had ceased for an instant, just about as long as it would take a person to hang up a cloak or a hat in the passage.

They were then resumed, and now I heard them mounting the stairs, up and up, and up, they came, and though I looked over, and the moonlight shone in clear upon the staircase, nothing could be seen. Still up, and up, came the steps, wearily and heavily, like those of a person who was tired, or an elderly man who ascended with
difficulty. Up and up still, until they sounded within a stair or two of where I stood.

I don't know how it was, but I drew back from the centre of the stairway where I was standing.
The action was quite involuntary on my part, and I became ashamed of myself immediately after. Before I could resume my position, however, the footsteps had passed me, and as the sound was emitted from the stair on which I stood, I felt a cold chill run through me as though an icy blast had blown upon me. The footsteps passed me seemed to go into the room I had just quitted, and there ceased.

The whole affair had come upon me so suddenly that I had been completely taken by surprise.
No time had been given me to reflect and I was consequently taken at a disadvantage.

Now however, that my attention was no longer distracted, I reasoned the matter with myself, and soon decided upon the course to take. Without the slightest hesitation I walked into the room in which the sounds had been last heard. Nothing was to be seen, although I looked carefully around. To tell the truth I did not expect to see
anything, for I had seen nothing pass me on the stairs. I waited for a few minutes, expecting the sound of footsteps to be resumed. As they were not, I determined to satisfy myself in regard to the door.
Down stairs I went, and again examined it.

Although I used all my strength, I could not draw back either the catch of the door, or either of the bolts, whilst as a proof that no key had been used, there were thick cobwebs over the keyhole. I was still standing pondering over the matter, and trying, though unsuccessfully, to find some solution for it, when once more I heard the footsteps in the room above.

This time, thought I, if there is anything coming down, I will stop it or it shall go through or over me. I went up the stairs and took my position on the stair, next below the landing halfway up, when there was a turn or traverse. The footsteps were descending, and, determined to test the matter unmistakably, I laid hold of the banisters with one hand, whilst with the other I touched the wall, thus entirely barring the way.

Down came the footsteps, when within three stairs of the landing, I thought I saw the shadowy form of a man. This became more distinct as it neared me, until when the step reached the landing just one stair above where I stood, I saw plainly and unmistakably a male figure.

It was that of a man rather beyond middle age. His dark hair, thickly grizzled, hung in heavy massive curls from his head, almost on to his shoulders. His dress appeared to be a blue jacket, with a dark vest and black trousers. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, with a red and yellow silk handkerchief hanging loosely in a tutor's knot round the neck. The face was deadly pale, and the mouth was compressed, and the teeth clenched in fierce determination. The eyes, though bright and glaring, were utterly meaningless ; there was no expression at all in them, but they were fixed on me with a dull stony stare, much more difficult to encounter than would have been an expression of passion of any kind.

All this I took in at a glance, as the two last stairs were descended, for there was no cessation. As it reached the landing the figure turned to continue its descent, and then I met it face to face, and almost touching me. That dead, dull, meaningless stare was more than I could bear, and with a gesture of aversion I put up my hand to keep the horrible spectre off me. My hand met with no resistance but seemed to pass clean through the object before me, and touched the wall behind it, as the steps sounded on the stair on which I was standing, and the spectre passed from my sight leaving me again with that deadly chill that I had previously experienced.

For an instant a feeling of intense horror and disgust overcame me. By a violent effort, however, I once more obtained command over myself, turned myself round and looked towards where the footsteps now sounded on the lowest stair. Nothing, however, was to be seen, and nothing more did I see though I heard the step in the hall, heard the key applied and the locked turned, and heard the door opened and after wards closed with a slam.

Only by a strong exercise of will did I save myself from fainting. My legs refused their office and I was fain to sit down on the stair until I had in some measure recovered myself. A few minutes sufficed for this, and then I rejoined my friend, whom I found outside. He was still on watch where I had last seen him, had never taken his eyes off the door, and affirmed positively that it had neither opened nor shut. I told him all I had seen, but this only made him the more anxious to take his turn of watching.

The next evening he was early on the ground, and with me carefully examined every corner and crevice, more particularly the door. I left him in high spirit, but, after waiting till 1 o'clock, and finding he did not return I went to look for him. Lucky it was that I did so, for I found him in the passage writhing in a fit, and it was only by the greatest difficulty he was restored to consciousness, and some months before he regained perfect health. Though I often asked him as to what he had seen, I could never get him to say a word upon the subject.

Published by Sydney Mail NSW Sat 29 Dec 1866
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 21, 2022, 01:03:23 AM

Many years ago I was travelling in the south western part of New South Wales with an old college chum. I had not seen him for many years, for after he left King's School, he had been sent to England by his father to study medicine. He had a fairly successful university career there, completed his course, and returned to Australia a fully fledged doctor.

Before finally settling down to practice, I had persuaded him to join me on a country trip both as a recreation and for the purpose of seeing something of life pastoral and agricultural districts of the State. He was a good talker, full of interesting reminiscences, and, backed by a cultured mind, was one of the most entertaining men it had ever been my fortune to meet.

We had a good pair of horses and a slight buggy, and, having been travelling all day, were pushing on to the homestead of a small station, where, although strangers, we hoped to spend the night. With the cool assurance of all bush travellers, we sought the hospitality of the house, and were soon comfortably seated at the dining table with the manager and his young wife. After the meal we all adjourned to the verandah, and, lighting our pipes, comfortably ensconced ourselves in the cane lounges. I can recall no more pleasant evening than we had on that occasion.

The manager was a most entertaining fellow. He had travelled and he had read, and, being a good
conversationalist, we listened with considerable interest. His wife too, was a woman of culture, and her wide range of reading and thoughts enabled her to discuss many subjects that I are not usually of interest to women. The doctor was at his best, and the hours flew by unnoticed. The manager was relating an amusing experience he had when travelling in Germany with his camera.

Suddenly we were all startled by a piercing scream, which proceeded from the paddock adjoining the house. The doctor sprang to his feet with the intention of running out into the paddock. The manager and his wife had also jumped up, and were looking into each other’s face. They appeared more agitated than the circumstances altogether warranted. They stood motionless with their hands clasped together. With an effort the manager turned round as he noticed the doctor bounding along the direction of the scream.

“Comeback, come back doctor,” he cried hoarsely; "its nothing."

His wife had sunk into her seat again and had buried her face in her hands. I was recovering from the scare I had, and could take more notice of what was occurring round me. The doctor had stopped in his impetuous rush as he heard the manager’s call.

“Good heavens!" he exclaimed, what was it?”
He came reluctantly back , but neither the manager nor his wife vouchsafed a reply to his question.

"I never in all my life heard a more awful scream,” he said, as he slowly up the stairs again. He threw himself into a lounge and looked askance at the manager, waiting for an explanation. Instead of giving one, the manager turned to his wife, and stroking her hair said—“Come my dear, I think you had better get to bed. It’s 11 o’clock and you must be dreadfully tired”

She a once stood up, and taking her husband’s preferred arm, briefly said good night to us and went inside. The manager turned his head as they passed through the door, and said, “ I shall be back in a few minutes if you will excuse me “

The doctor was visibly distressed. “I can’t understand it” he said,” as he caught my eye.
“If ever a woman was in danger and distress, that woman who screamed was”

My mind was dwelling as much upon the extraordinary agitation of our host and hostess as upon the startling scream. “I feel annoyed” the doctor continued. “I feel annoyed that I did not go and investigate the matter, but the tone of the manager was so peremptory I imagined he could account for the affair, but when I returned and saw him and his wife I realised that they too, were quite as startled as we.”

We smoked for fully 20 minutes before the manager returned. He walked to his chair, and sitting down lighted a cigar and for two or three minutes, he puffed away without a word. It almost seemed he was unconscious of our presence, for he sat there staring into the gloom surrounding the house. Then, with an effort, he seemed to pull himself together and said:—

“ I don’t know how you fellows feel, but I was knocked over.” Then apparently remembering that some explanation was due to the doctor, he turned to him and said:—"It was no use going out doctor, you could have done no good “

“ Don’t you think I might have been allowed to try?" the doctor asked.
“ Yes, if there had been anyone there, but there was not."
" What do you mean? Surely there can be no doubt of the shriek, and also that it came from some woman?"
“ No," returned the manager, “there cannot, but, nevertheless, I know there is nothing tangible. Listen, I don’t suppose you will give much credence to what I am going to tell you, but all the same I can assure you that it is absolutely a fact.”

“This is the third occasion upon which that shriek has been heard. The first occasion, at least, the first in my experience was about two years ago, soon after my marriage. My wife and I were sitting or the verandah one evening chatting when that awful sound occurred. I thought a woman was being murdered, and, springing up, I darted down the verandah steps and rushed across the paddock. I was much distressed at hearing my wife crying out to me not to leave her alone, but I could not turn back. I seemed to be irresistibly drawn towards the lower corner of the paddock. A second scream of such awful agony made me redouble my speed; then suddenly I became aware of the figure, of a woman not more than 50 yards from me.”

“She stood with her arms raised as if to ward off a blow. Her face bore a look of hopeless terror and agony. She wore a bright red cape and a dark dress, but I could not notice anything else about her dress. I looked about expecting to see her assailant, but there was no one else near. I noticed all these things as I ran towards her. It was then that I experienced an uncomfortable feeling,” and, he paused a moment then said, "Yes, I may as well be honest, and say I felt absolutely afraid.”

“Funny that I should have felt so, for under ordinary circumstances I don't know what fear is. I have been in a pretty tight corner with a mad bullock, I have been in a vehicle drawn by a pair of bolting half-broken horses and approaching a closely timbered piece of country, and never felt a moment's fear; but, as I say, I approached the woman with a feeling of dread. Then, when I was within 20 yards of her, she turned and ran before me, then completely disappeared. I was dumbfounded. I looked about, for the night was a bright one, but could see nothing of her. She had vanished. I retraced my steps to the house and found my wife, very much upset and nervous.
I didn't satisfy her curiosity. I merely said I could see no one. I got very little sleep that night, I could not erase from my mind the piteous look of terror on the face of the woman, nor could I get rid of the idea that there was something supernatural about the affair. When daylight came I found myself laughing at the whole thing, and feeling ashamed of my old womanish superstition of the previous night".

"A few months passed, and I had ceased to think of the matter. About a year ago the thing occurred again just as I have related it. Again I ran out to help, again I suddenly saw the woman, and once more I followed her till she vanished as on the previous occasion, but I could not put my wife off; she would have an explanation this time, and, rightly or wrongly, I told, her what I had seen. I have regretted it ever since, for it has been a constant dread to her. Tonight all her fears have returned, and I feel more concerned at the effect the episode will have on her than I care to admit. It's a nasty affair, and I am quite at a loss to account for it. I am naturally a very matter-of-fact fellow, and I have never had any belief in thing’s supernatural, but I confess the weirdness of this thing is beginning to oppress me. What can it be? It can't be a trick of the eye, for I saw that woman as distinctly as I see you now."

"I think it is very probable you did see the woman as you imagine," quietly remarked the doctor.
A few years ago I was a member of the Psychical Research Society, and the evidence brought before us of unaccountable happenings after death fairly staggered me. I am convinced that investigation would reveal something to account for what has just taken place."

Personally, I was secretly amused at the earnestness of those two men over the matter. I had never had the slightest belief in ghosts and apparitions, and always felt confident that all strange and mysterious incidents could be accounted for in an ordinary everyday manner. In this particular case I was sure that the woman was the result of an overheated imagination. I could not, nor did I attempt to, explain away the scream. There was not the slightest doubt about that. There might, of course, have been a camp of blacks in the vicinity, and the shriek might have come from one of the gins, and to satisfy myself on this point, I asked the question.

"No," at once replied the manager, "at the present moment there is not a black within 30 miles of us. In fact, I don't think there are a dozen in the whole district. Besides, he continued, how can you account for what I saw? The woman I saw was white, and evidently a lady."

Well, I couldn't account for her, and I said so. But at the same time I thought that before I accepted that part of his story I would require corroboration. He noticed my apparent scepticism on this point, and appeared a bit nettled. We relapsed into silence and puffed quietly at our pipes, each one's mind bent upon a probable solution of the mystery.

"I wish I had followed my original intention and gone to discover the cause of the scream. I might
have been in a position to confirm what you have stated, or perhaps have been able to advance
a commonsense solution of the matter."

"Ah, doctor," replied the manager, "I see that you too, are inclined to doubt my version of the affair; notwithstanding your half belief in supernatural events."

“No, it isn't that," returned the doctor. I don't doubt that you saw what you say, but I would be more satisfied if I knew someone else saw it too."

Well, I remarked, I only know that in all my travels I have never yet met anything that has not been perfectly in accordance with the natural order of things. I don't believe in ghosts, I don’t believe in apparitions and I am convinced that the scream we heard tonight came from a thing of flesh and blood.

The manager rose, saying, “ Let us sleep on it, and perhaps it will wear a different aspect in the morning. Daylight is a powerful factor in restoring one's mental equilibrium in matters of this sort"

We had just risen to our feet, and were about to go inside, when once more that terrific shriek was heard on the night air. I am not ashamed to say that for a moment I was so scared I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. The doctor's voice brought me to my senses "Good God!” he exclaimed, “there it is again." And without another word he sprang down the steps. We followed at our speed, the manager close at my heels,, and I not more than three yards behind the doctor.

An exclamation from the doctor made me look in the direction he was going, and for a moment I paused for there in the gloom stood the woman, just as the manager had described her, clad in a bright red cloak and dark dress, and with her arms raised. Although the night was very dark, her figure seemed to stand in a peculiar circle of light, and we could see her plainly. Her face was that of a young woman of about 25 years of age, but how shall I describe that awful look of terror? It has haunted me ever since. I have been unable to forget it, and now, after the lapse of 30 years, I see it as vividly as I did on that night.

We continued running towards her, and as we approached nearer,, she backed to us, then turned and ran down the paddock. We followed, but could not overtake her, and then, as the manager had explained to us, she vanished. We were in a cleared paddock, and she disappeared there in the open. We stood there panting with our exertions, and gazing at the spot where we had last seen her.

“Well, doctor, are you satisfied now?" asked the manager.

The doctor made no reply, but walked about in a circle examining the ground, as though he suspected a trick had been played by someone. As for me, I was astounded. All my scepticism had gone. I could no longer doubt the truth of the manager's story. It was no mental delusion, and as I thought it over standing there, I felt uncomfortable, and was quite relieved when the manager suggested that we had better return to the house. We walked back, each occupied with his own thoughts. Occasionally an exclamation would escape the doctor, but no one attempted to explain the mystery.

When we reached the house, the doctor said, "I should like to know something about this house. “Have you lived here long?" he asked the manager.
"Only about about three years," he answered. "You see this station was bought by an uncle of mine a few years ago, and have managed it ever since. It was previously owned by an American from California. I don't know much about him, but from what I have heard he was rather disreputable fellow. We never knew why he sold out, for the property was a good one, and paid well.” We chatted a little longer and then retired, but I for one could not rest, I would doze and then suddenly awake to find myself in a state of nervous apprehension.

What weird story surrounded that unfortunate woman?
Had she been done to death, and why should she now at stated intervals revisit the scene of her earthly terrors?

At last I draped asleep and dreamed all sorts of solutions to the mystery. Sometimes I imagined I was being murdered, at other times I was the murderer, but through all the jumble of dream there was the all pervading terror struck face of that, unhappy woman. I woke up in the morning very little refreshed with my sleep. We made an early start on our journey. The manager joined us at an early breakfast, and looked worn and depressed. Curiosity, none of us made any reference to the events of the previous night. We parted from him, and I have never met him since.

The doctor and I discussed the matter during our drive, but although we both endeavoured to explain the whole thing away we found ourselves in the end unanimously of opinion that it was an apparition of a murdered woman.

Three years passed, and our paths in life had diverged. The doctor had purchased a practice in Melbourne, while I had settled down in Sydney. One morning, in turning over a paper, my eye rested upon a paragraph headed, "Singular Deathbed Confession." It contained an account of a confession made by a dying man in New York. The confession was that some years previously he had left California for Australia, where he had purchased a certain cattle station. While there he had been joined by a young woman, whom he had bigamously married. She was a woman of violent temper, and discovering the injustice and wrong done to her by him, frequently threatened to have him arrested for bigamy.

One night this threat led to an outburst of uncontrollable passion on his part, and seizing a heavy walking stick, he dealt her a number of savage blows on the head. When he regained control of himself, he was horrified to find he had killed her. Terrified at the thought of the consequences of such a crime, he decided to hide the body of his unfortunate victim. He stealthily carried it out into a large paddock adjoining the house, and digging a deep hole, buried it there. His remorse, at the deed, and fear of discovery, made his life a perfect hell, and after enduring it for about a year, he sold the station and returned to America, but wherever he went he was pursued by the thought of what he had done. The unfortunate man concluded his confession by saying that he felt glad his miserable life was drawing to a close.

As I read the confession, I felt convinced that the station he referred to was the one the doctor and I had stayed at that memorable night three years previously. Without a moment's delay I penned a letter to the Inspector
General of Police, and had an interview with him, with the result that an inspector and a couple of men were despatched to the station and after a few days examination they discovered a human skeleton. It was buried about the middle of the paddock, and one peculiar feature about the matter was that the only trace of clothing found in the grave was tattered remains of a bright red cloak.

Published by Saturday Journal Adelaide, SA Sat 13 Dec 1924
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 22, 2022, 12:24:58 AM

This is a true story. That is to say, the incidents I have narrated here are true in every particular.
Beyond the possible explanation I give towards close of the narrative, l do not pretend to understand.
Here are the facts.

My father and mother arrived at Portland from England in 1854. My father crossed the border into South Australia and purchased an estate. In the seventies, he sold it and acquired a property in another part of Australia with a four mile frontage to a river. The new estate was then run as a stud sheep farm. The manager of the estate, who was an elderly Irishman, gravely told my father not to go near the cliffs on the river bank — a mile from the homestead — because the place was haunted by a ghost.

The ghost was said to be in the shape of a transparent man without a head. The manager declared that he had seen it once, and that his horse bolted, ran into a fence and both horse and rider were severely injured. He then told my father that, in the early days, the river near the cliffs were used as a crossing place at low water for bullock waggons, which took gold seekers from the town into the far country and returned for stores.

On one of the return trips two men with a bullock waggon camped on the cliff. They had some success in finding gold, which they decided to divide into two equal parts. During the division a disagreement took place. One of the men picked up an axe and with one blow severed the head from the body of the other, who was on his knees picking over the nuggets. The murderer then dug a grave and buried the headless body on top of the cliffs. The head rolled over the cliff into the water and was carried down stream. The murderer then decamped, taking everything with him no one knowing where or caring. But ever after the cliffs were haunted by a ghost without a head.

I was about 12 years old when I began to hear the men talking of the headless ghost. It was common talk in the district. I was more impressed when one morning one of my father's men rolled up his swag and cleared out without waiting for the wages due to him for three weeks work. The man had the night before been to the hotel about three miles away. Coming home he had gone to sleep by a haystack near the cliffs. He said he was awakened by feeling something icy cold on his forehead, and on looking up he saw the headless ghost stooping over him, just in the act of removing a ghostly hand from his face. This was too much for the man, who jumped up and rushed for home, arriving at the men's hut a little after midnight. He woke up the other men and told them his story. The men did not scoff, but not feeling like returning to bed, they sat and smoked until daylight.

Before this, two of the other men had also seen the ghost while returning at midnight from the pub. When
reaching the stack near the cliffs they saw the ghost approaching, they left instantly and hurriedly, leaving their hats and a quart bottle of beer behind them. After that the cliffs and the neighborhood of the grave were avoided by all men after sundown.

Now for my own experience. On every country estate was kept a large pack of dogs of mixed breeds for killing rabbits and foxes, which were then beginning to become numerous. We had a good many dogs, and among them was one, half greyhound and staghound, who was used for hunting kangaroos and other wild game. He was a born killer, a big dog, in appearance like a great over-sized greyhound. I saw him tear the throat out of a mad boar pig one day, and my faith in him was great.

I decided to look for the ghost and to take this dog with me, so one beautiful moonlight night I crept through my window, when all were asleep, and went to the dog kennels. All the dogs were awake so I decided to take them all, feeling quite secure with their company. I quickly made my way to the cliffs. I will never forget that night. The dogs were jumping about and running around me as I walked. When I got within about a hundred yards of the cliffs I noticed that the dogs had stopped. Turning round to look for them, I got my first fright, every dog was standing with hair on end, teeth bared, snarling and looking intently toward the cliffs. The dogs had their lips drawn back and their fangs gleaming white in the moonlight.

The wind was softly moaning through the gumtrees, and l felt my hair stand up on end. I turned quickly and looked toward the cliffs and saw what looked like a misty vapour or about the height of a man, but no legs or arms were visible. I mustered up sufficient courage to call the dogs. The big fellow was the only one who moved. He came slowly and stood close to my side, his back hair straight on end, his long fangs bared, his top lip drawn back to such an extent that his gums were visible above his fangs. A low hoarse rumbling issued from his throat.

As I looked at him with my back to the cliffs, the whole pack, including the big fellow, simultaneously put their tails between their legs and fled for home, whimpering. I did not look again at the cliffs, and not desiring to let the dogs out of sight, rushed after them. On reaching home I found that I had not lost a length, and now consider that I must have broken all records from 50 yards to a mile that night. The dogs, still whimpering, ran to their kennels, and I, too scared to undress, tumbled into bed. My first and last ghost hunt had ended.

A neighbour who was a crack shot, declared that he would settle the ghost. He went one moonlight night to the haystack and waited until midnight, watching the grave. He declares that he saw the ghost form apparently rise out of nothing on top of the grave of the murdered man. The spectre then moved along the fence towards him. When at a distance of 50 yards the shooter fired the first barrel, but failed to stop the ghost's progress. At 40 yards he fired the second shot, with the same result. The ghost did not duck or hurry but continued to come towards him. He then dropped his gun and fled. Next day he sent his son to the stack near the cliffs to get the gun. The man who retrieved the gun is alive today and can confirm this account.

The spectre used to parade from the cliffs to the main road, along the fence and then vanish. One morning one of our laborers came galloping up to the homestead looking scared, with the news that there was a man lying dead on the road at the corner of the fence. He was returning about midnight from the hotel, driving a horse in a spring cart. The horse was violently frightened, and dashed forward, one wheel striking a large stone near the fence. The cart turned over, one side lying across the neck of the man, who had been completely strangled. Whether the ghost took fright at the death of this man, several of the men considered that was the ghost who frightened the horse, or whether it was satisfied at having caused the death of this man, the spectre was never seen again.

In thinking, as I have done very many times, about these queer happenings, I have often regretted that l did not look back when I went ghost hunting with the dogs. A headless spectre may have materialised while l was so scared looking at the dogs, on the other hand, it is possible that the misty vapour was caused by a heap of refuse brought down by the river when in flood, and deposited near the cliffs. The hot sun on this all day may have caused it to give forth misty vapour in the cool of the night. The vapour could float up the cliff steady and in the depression of the grave and a slight wind might cause the vapour to float along the fence down to the main road.

If this were so could account for the ghost seen by the manager, the two men drinking beer at the stack, and the man who shot at it, but would it account for the icy cold hand on the man's forehead when he was asleep at the stack or the uncanny action of the dogs?

Published by Weekly Times Melbourne, Vic Sat 28 Apr 1934
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 23, 2022, 12:45:02 AM

' Come on old fellow, tell us about your ghost.’

' Here it is then,' commenced Daly, ' and to begin as you've all given your ghosts a name, I shall call mine The Lady with the Lantern.’

'Oh, don't go back into the dark ages, Mr. Daly’, said a soft voice.

' Who was that spoke ?' asked Daly turning round. 'It was you Miss Lizzie Jackson, I know by the wicked turn of your eye. And what can a bit of a girleen, born as ye may say only yesterday, know about the dark ages? 
But don't interrupt the speak and let me get on.’

I was going down to Sydney, and an accident to my horse compelled me to stop for the night at Black Creek. It wasn't Black Creek at all, however, for I'd gone through the township, and pulled up at Anvil Creek where an Inn hadn't been long built. Well, I had my supper, lit my dudheen, and 
took a walk out into the front to enjoy my smoke in the open air. Backwards and forwards I walked, just thinking of nothing at all except wishing I hadn't been bailed up in that lonely place.

I'd walked nearly down to the roadway, and the Inn stands a good piece back off it, when coming along the road I see a light, swinging about like as if it was in a lantern. It wasn't a bright night, for there were heavy clouds threatening a thunderstorm ; but I fancied, and trust the eye of an Irishman for finding it out, I fancied I see the glint of something white like a petticoat behind the lantern. There was a bit of luck I hadn't reckoned upon, coming in the shape of a little native girl. When I caught the sight of the petticoat, may depend that I wasn't long in walking down on to the road, and sauntering to where I saw the light coming, just as if I didn't see it at all and was just walking along promiscous like.

I went about fifty yards when I came to a bridge or what they call a culvert, that carried the road over a bit of a creek that runs into Anvil Creek, and comes down with no end of a rush after a thunderstorm, or a heavy shower. Just as I got to one end of the bridge, the light got to the other and then I saw at the end of the lantern as pretty a slip of a girl as ever I'd wish to set eyes on, her black hair hanging in long glossy ringlets on her shoulders. She looked a trifle pale, but that might have been the light and the clouds and the roads. When she got to the bridge, she stopped and began looking about on the ground, holding the lantern down so that she might see the better.

There was just the chance I wanted to scrape acquaintance, so over the bridge I went, and coming up alongside of the girl says I, What is it you've lost, my darlin? She didn’t answered me, and she didn't even look up, as if she'd heard me. Perhaps thought the poor girl's frightened at being met by a lump of a boy alone on the road, so I said, Don’t be alarmed, my darlin. You haven't anything to fear from me, and if you've lost anything I'll help you to find it, still not a word, and she went on looking and looking about, as if I hadn't been there at all.

Well, said I, its only manners to answer a civil question ; and you might have said, Thank you sir, or go to the divil, or any other civil answer. Not a word, or a turn of the head, but always the same eager searching. Thought I, at last, I have it, the poor craytur's deaf or she's an innocent.

With that I put out my hand with the intention to let her know if she was deaf that there was somebody there, when she made a sudden spring to the end of the bridge, raised the lantern high up into the air with one hand, and with the other pointed down to the opening under the roadway, and at the sametime turned upon me a face upon which was marked such mingled horror and hopeless misery as I shall never forget if I live to be as old as Mathuseley. I also went with one bound to the spot, looked down at the place indicated by the pointing finger, and could see nothing.

One look was sufficient to satisfy me of that, and I turned round to tell her so, when you may fancy I was a bit staggered at finding no traces of either girl or lantern. There was no place where she could have hid, for each side of the roadway was clear for a good distance, and her white dress could have been seen, even if she'd blown out her lantern. I listened, but I couldn't even hear the rustle of her clothes, and some of you young chaps I dare say can tell by experience how far a colleen may be traced by that.

However there I was, all alone and no sign of the female that wouldn't speak when she had a chance. Well, said I, to myself; there's better fish in the say than ever was caught ; and I'm not going to bother my head about a girleen that takes herself off in that indelicate manner, after making a fool of me into the bargain. So back I went to the Inn, consoled myself with a drop of whiskey, and got into a bit of a collogue with the landlady. 

' Who is there living in these parts?' says I. 
' I'd have thought some one had been living close by, seeing that slip of a girl poking about the road, with a lantern in her fist, as if she'd lost a pound note and meant to find it.' 

The landlady stopped me with ? 'That's her!'

' What her ‘ I asked. 

' Biddy Nowlan, she that died. And did you see her ‘

' I don't know about seeing the girl that died, but I met a nate, good looking, black haired colleen, 
searching about the bridge with a lantern.' 

'That was her, I tell you. There's a many that's seen her, though more often its only the light of the 
lantern that's seen. She don't do no harm, bless you ; quite the other way, for whenever she's seen, its always a sign there'll be a flood, and when the water's up in the creek her lantern's always moving about at the end of the bridge to guide travellers safe across.' 

‘ That's dacent, anyway. And may I ask you, Mrs Butts, how it was that she came to make a ghost of herself.’

She was engaged to be married to Phil Ryan, an overseer at Duguid's, and they were only about a month off the day. Phil used to come up and see her of evenings, and one night that he had promised particularly to bring her over something or other, I forget what, a heavy thunder storm came on, the creeks all run down bank high, and regular rainy weather set in for the night. Poor Biddy knew that Phil would come, in spite of all the rain and floods, and so out she went with a lantern to be a guide to him at the bridge. When she reached there she found that it was so covered with water that the roadway was not visible. She called and called, but received novanswer, and after waiting up to the time when he might be expected, if he was coming at all, 
she went home.

Some uneasiness, for which she could not account, would not allow her to sleep, so just before daylight she once more lighted her lantern and went out. This here creek, and the landlady pointed her short fat hand down to the bridge, comes down flooded half an hour after rain begins, but it goes down just as soon after the rain stops. The morning was fine and clear, the rain was all off, and the creek was down so that there was only just a narrow bit of a stream running in the centre of it.

Looking for she didn't know what, and led on by some awful presentiment of evil, she searched the ground, until reaching the bridge, she found her lover's body lying cold and dead, half drawn under the bridge which had caught it, and had at least prevented its being swept away to where it might have been long before it was discovered, of course she screamed and fainted on the body, and there she lay until found by some of the earliest passers by.

She never spoke again, and though everything that could be done for her was done, by her mother and us women, she died on the day that Phil's body was buried. Ever since then she's been seen down at the bridge whenever there's bad weather coming on, and as you've seen her tonight you may depend upon it that there'll be a flood in the creek before morning.

‘ And was there a flood, Mr. Daly?' asked one of the ladies.

'Sure enough there was, and a rare one too, by the same token, that I had to pass another day at the Inn, as the coach was unable to get along from Singleton.'

Published by Sydney Mail NSW Sat 29 Dec 1866
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 24, 2022, 01:34:13 AM

One of the earliest of Adelaide's haunted houses was the old Fountain Inn Hotel, which was built at Encounter Bay in 1887. It is said to be one of the first hotels erected in South Australia. The building was constructed of weather-board and the roof was thatched with grasses from the surrounding country. As it was the only hotel for miles around, The Fountain became the favorite gathering place of the whalers, and many wild carousals were held within its walls. Brawls were many and frequent, and more than one man was dragged from the bar bleeding from wounds sustained in a free for all fight.

After some years other hotels were erected in the district, and the 'Fountain' was let to tenants as a summer residence. But no one could be found who would stay long in the place. At the dead of night, when the sullen boom of the breakers sounded above the stillness of night, there would come other sounds, queer, inexplicable noises, like human feet dragging heavily over the soft sand. Yet when one investigated there was nothing. Knowing the unenviable reputation of the place the rumor went round the village that the place was haunted by the ghost of a whaler, who had been injured in a drunken brawl and had been dragged to the beach and left to die.

Some persons went even so far as to say that they had seen the grim tableau enacted, and that at a certain time of the night the spirit of the man returned to his old haunts. There are persons still living who say they have heard the strange noises. Matters came to a climax one night in late summer. The house was occupied by a young farmer, a Mr. Smith, and his wife.

On this night the husband was called into town. Knowing the evil reputation of the place the husband before leaving for town went round the village to find some courageous person who would stay with his wife through the night. But evidently the stories surrounding the place had circulated everywhere, and no one would stay a night in the haunted house. Goaded by the cowardice of the community the young wife determined to brave the horrors of a night alone, and after her husband's anxious farewell she retired to the sitting room with her sewing.

The flickering oil lamp threw strange, mis-shapen shadows about the walls, outside the wind moaned and wailed across the desolate land, but the wife resolutely put all thoughts of ghostly visitors from her mind. She dared not go to bed, but remained busy with her needle and thread, her spirits kept up by the thought of her husband's promise to return as soon as the dawn permitted it.

Midnight struck, then one and two o'clock. The wind had died low and from far off came the rumble of breakers. Suddenly from outside the window came a soft dragging rustle, as of a heavy body being dragged through thick sand. Every moment it grew louder until the woman could remain still no longer. Snatching up the lamp she ran to the door and thrust the light outside.

The flickering radiance lit the scene dimly, but sufficiently to show her that the beach was deserted. Whatever made the ghostly noises was apparently within a few yards of her and yet it remained invisible. Almost frantic with terror she rushed back into the house, double locked the door, and spent the remainder of the night in her bedroom, where her husband found her when he returned in the morning.

The next day they left the house and its evil reputation and sought a home elsewhere. This incident can be perused more fully in the newspapers of that date, which give a full account of the uncanny business. Several tenants took the house after, but none of them stayed long.

Published by The Mail Adelaide, SA Sat 28 Dec 1929
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 24, 2022, 01:57:48 AM

Even as recently as 1918 a family took a house at the Semaphore, and had the place thoroughly cleaned preparatory to moving in. One room was used as a bedroom, and one of the children persisted in saying that on certain nights his room was visited by a lady in a white nightgown. The child was told that he must have been dreaming. He, however, remained firm in his statement, but no notice was taken of his remarks until some weeks later.

About this time the boy's mother had to go into hospital, and a sister came to take charge of the house. Thuds and noises were heard at night time during her stay, but she imagined that these sounds were called by the elder boy moving about in his room. Iwen the mother returned home, but the sister stayed on. One night she heard an unusually loud noise, and getting up to investigate saw standing before her a figure of a woman in a white nightgown. She spoke to her, but the figure did not answer.

In the morning, when she met the mother, and reprimanded her for getting out of bed in the cold air. The mother denied having left the bed, and said that it must have been her husband. 'That is ridiculous,' said the sister. 'The person I saw was a woman. I could see her quite plainly.' Noticing the rest of the family looking uneasy she thought that it would be best to say no more on the subject,

The family, however, decided that there were too many inexplicable things happening for their peacfi of mind, and they decided to seek a more comfortable dwelling. That the place was haunted is their firm conviction. What is the mystery behind these strange visitations?

Published by The Mail Adelaide, SA Sat 28 Dec 1929


Another spooky story came from the Upper Hunter where a nursing sister contacted me to relate a similar haunting.

“We had moved into an old school house that had been disused for several years and my husband had been renovating. We’d been there for three weeks when I came home from work and being exhausted went upstairs to the spare bedroom for a nap while my husband was entertaining a mate in the kitchen.

I’d only been in the bed for fifteen minutes when it started to shake violently, really violently. I was bouncing all over the place and terrified. My husband suggested it was probably an old hot water pipe but there was no piping in that room. We scratched our heads and let it be but two weeks later the same thing happened to him. Neither of us has been superstitious but we definitely ‘felt’ something in the old house.

A week later we went out to dinner and came home to find the house still locked and a side-table had moved to the very centre of the living room. Nothing was damaged, nobody had been in the room but the table had moved to the very centre. This was really strange and starting to concern us. One of the sisters at the hospital suggested we talk to the Bishop of Newcastle. He arranged for a priest to visit the house to perform an exorcism. We haven’t been troubled since.”


Morwell has a ghost. Unlike all other genus of this description, the Morwell ghost is of a copper coloured hue, and is dressed in sombre black. It first made its appearance to a lady who was in the act of taking clothes off the line.

Turning suddenly round, she beheld the object close to her side, and at once fled for protection. Telling her husband what she had seen, he at once made a reconnoitre, and after a long search discovered an object moving along a fence, but it was gone when he came up to the fence. Shortly after this the ghost knocked at the door, and on its being opened by the occupant, the ghost fled precipitately. 

On several occasions since it has been seen wandering to and fro, but all attempts to capture it have been proved futile. Watching parties have been organised, and every corner is carefully guarded, but as yet there is no result. Back and front doors are mysteriously opened and shut, windows are rattled, and beds are shaken, but the cause of it is unknown, even our local guardian of the peace has been unable to find any clue to the astonishing freaks of this visible yet invisible spectre. It has been suggested that some person has been playing a practical joke, but this we can hardly credit. Perhaps the present week will disclose further mysteries or else the timid will be afraid to leave their doors.

Published by Traralgon Record on Friday the 6th of November, 1885.


Prospect Hall, in the suburb of Prospect, Adelaide, has been the scene of one of the eeriest and most persistent hauntings recorded In Australian history. First a carriage could be heard (but never seen) driving up to the door. Soon its spectral occupant, a woman dressed in white silk, would walk up the steps and peer into any uncurtained windows of the house. She would then vanish. Later guests could hear her tread upon the stairs. So persistent were the lady's visitations, and so numerous those who had been startled by her appearance and footsteps, that Prospect Hall ended its days by being let to a milkman, who refused to stay there longer than one night.
The rental was sixpence a week.

Published by The Australian Women's Weekly Sat 17 Aug 1946
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 24, 2022, 02:09:58 AM

It was past three o'clock. Hour after hour l had been walking on the seemingly endless Loddon plains. Belt after belt of dark green, gloomy looking trees was reached and passed, and still no signs of human life or habitations appeared. Sometimes a mob of kangaroos would lazily hop out of my road, and slowly disappear among the gloomy gum trees; or a stray emu would start off; with thundering strides, making the hard dry soil ring with its foot steps. Several times I came across some large brown snakes, which were lying basking in the tropical heat but, after quietly raising their heads and glaring at me for an instant, they slowly wriggled away amongst the saltbush.

All animal and vegetation life seemed prostrated by the intense heat. What would have been the value of one draught of pure cold water. How little do those who dwell among time running brooks and crystal springs of Old England know of the luxury of a drink of clear cool water, or of the intense gratification it affords to a thirsty man, under the burning sky of Australia. I repeatedly chewed the leaves of the succulent pigs face, but its briny juice seemed rather to aggravate than relieve my thirst. On, then, I must go, though every breath l drew was like a blast from a furnace.

The sun had sunk low in the sky, and was glowing blood red through it smoky looking haze; the distant hills were entirely hidden from view. It was evident that night was approaching fast. And such a night, only differing from the day in the absence of the sun. Water must be found before night, or the next day's sun would probably shine upon a madman. Life and death were in the balance, and with renewed energy I hurried on. Belt after belt of timber was reached and passed; the sun had entirely disappeared behind the gloomy, hazy curtain which hung suspended in the heated air.

Another thick belt of trees was reached and passed, when on emerging on the open plain, I espied a boy minding a flock of sheep. How my heart beat at the sight, hurrying up to him, I pointed to my mouth and tried to speak, but could only utter a few unintelligible sounds, he quickly understood me, and unstrapping a tin flask from his side, he handed it to me. Never before or since have I tasted anything which could compare with the luxury of that moment. It was like a draught from the fabled fountain of eternal youth, bringing life, energy, and hope to my exhausted frame. As soon as I could speak, I eagerly asked for more. The boy then directed me to an old hut, about a quarter of a mile from where we stood, and told me that there was a waterhole close to it.
After thanking him, I was hurrying away, when he added, “ but you will not stop there tonight."
On my asking him why not?
He said that the place was haunted. I laughed and telling the boy that ghosts would not hurt me and hurried on.

On reaching the water, my first step was to assuage my burning thirst, and then filling the billy, or tin pot, l lit a fire and put it on, with the intention of making some of the bushman’s usual beverage, "strong tea." Having done this, I turned my attention to the deserted hut. It was an old bark hut, such as may be seen in many parts of this colony where timber is plentiful. The roof was decaying; two sheets of bark from the one end had fallen in, the chimney still stood, but leaned against the end of the hut in a manner that threatened its speedy downfall.

After examining the outside, I entered it through the open doorway. The door had fallen off the hinges, and lay rotting on the floor. The inside seemed equally as dilapidated as the outside. A solitary iguana opened his yellow mouth at me as I entered, but suddenly whisking his tail in the air, he disappeared in a crevice between two slabs. On looking round, I saw that the hut was divided into two rooms, and in the centre of one room was a rough slab table, covered with dark stains, and marks made by some sharp instrument, such as an axe or tomahawk.

I was called from my observations by the sudden boiling over of my billy; and having made my tea, I sat down and did full justice to it. Supper was over. I had eaten enough, and the next thing necessary was sleep. So, after picking the tops of some young gum trees, and spreading them on a sheet of bark, I rolled myself up in my rug, and was soon fast asleep. How long I had slept I know not, but a bright light shining on my face awoke me. Fearing that the hut had caught fire some how, I crept to a chink in the partition wall, and there was a sight that chilled my blood witlh horror.

In the chimney a fire was burning brightly, casting a ruddly glow through the room; and on the left side of the table lay a woman on a stretcher, apparently asleep; but on glancing at her prostrate figure I saw that her head was severed from her body. Uttering an exclamation of horror, I was about to rush into the rooms, when I caught sight of a man standing on the other side of the table, with an axe in one hand and a butcher's knife in the other.

His form is even now present to my imagination. He was short and thickset; his face was half hidden by a black bushy beard, above which glowed two pale phosphorescent eyes, with a fiery spark in the centre of each. He turned and gazed full on the chink through which I was looking. A cold shudder shot through me, and I felt the hair rise on my head, but I could not withdraw my eyes from the terrible fascination of those glowing eyeballs.

Suddenly he turned, and taking up the body, he placed it on  the table; then, lifting his axe, he chopped off an arm and placed it on the fire. Again he lifted the axe, I looked round me for some weapon ; it was evident that the monster had murdered the woman and was now destroying the proof of his crime. What could I do, unarmed, against such a determined ruffian. Again I searched for a weapon, but could find none. Vainly I grasped at the timbers of the walls; not a stick could I find. Suddenly a deep groan almost petrified me with horror. I approached the chink again, and peeping through, I saw that the monster had cut up the body and placed it all on the fire.

Standing with his back to the fire, he was apparently warming his hands at the blaze which was consuming his victim. Again that horrid groan burst forth, seemingly from him. I raised my eyes to his face, and was again transfixed by the luminous fiery gaze, again the roots of my hair became rigid, and the cold shudder crept over me. He slowly came to the table and took up the axe and knife, the burning body still hissed and sputtered in the blaze. Nearer and nearer he came, still fixing that horrid gaze on me. Every muscle in my body became as rigid as marble; a ton of weight seemed to press on each of my arms; I strove to speak, but in vain, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Still he advanced, step by step. At last I forced out- In the name of heaven - and fell back senseless.

The sun was just peeping over the tops of the trees, the dew was fresh on the grass, the laughing jackasses threw up their clumsy heads and cackled in chorus, while the magpies perched on the tree tops, uttering their musical notes. The trees were covered with liquid diamonds, which glittered and danced in the rays of the rising sun, or fell like a shower of pearls before the cool south wind, which came whispering and sighings among the slender tops of the young gum trees. All animated nature seemed to be rejoicing at the commencement of day, when I awoke with a start from my sleep.

What had become of the horrid sight I had seen?
Was it a dream or a reality?

Hastily looking into the next room, I saw nothing but what I had noticed the previous evening. There was no axe, no knife, no fresh stains of blood, nothing that would indicate that any one except myself had entered the hut during the night. I looked at the fireplace; the ashes lay in a heap on the centre of the hearth, and seemed to have been undisturbed for months. This was perplexing, but after examining the place thoroughly, I came to the conclusion that I must have been dreaming; so, lighting a fire in the old chimney, I began to prepare my breakfast. A sheet of bark from a neighbouring gum tree formed a kneading trough, the flour and water were mixed and worked into a damper in the regular bush style, the ashes of the fire were carefully opened, the hearth dusted, the damper deposited on it and covered with the glowing embrey dust.

In replacing the ashes on the top of the damper, I saw something glitter like metal, and on picking it up, I found it was a gold ring, inscribed with the initials, L. S.  Here was a mystery.

What should bring a gold ring amongst the ashes of a deserted hut?

My dream began to assuren assume the semblance of reality. Searching again in the ashes, I found further evidence of its horrid reality. Some hairpins, metal buttons, hooks and eyes, pieces of calcined bone, and two human teeth, partly decayed and stopped with gold, bore witness to the fatal truth of the tragedy I had seen acted in the night.

My appetite was gone; and rolling up my rug, I hurried off to the nearest police station, where I told my tale, deposed the calcined teeth and other articles and received the informnation that, twelve months previous to my visit, a man and woman had been missing from that hut , and had not been heard of since. I gave the sergeant my name and address, and he promised to let me know he discovered anything more respecting this mysterious affair; but from that day to this, I have never received any information tending to explain my vision at the Haunted Hut.

Published by South Bourke Standard Vic Fri 4 Oct 1867
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 24, 2022, 02:23:14 AM

In 1863 there stood, in the South Yarra Road, a terrace composed of three substantial brick houses, untenanted for the reason that they bore the reputation of being haunted. They had all been occupied at different times, but no tenants could ever be persuaded to remain in them for more than a few weeks, though the rents had been gradually reduced from 25s to 21s per week.

Screams and various blood curdling noises drove them out, but the fact was never established that anything had ever actually been seen. There were no other houses in the immediate neighborhood, save a small, neat cottage on an adjoining lot, which was occupied by the owner of the entire property, in which he had invested a
considerable sum of money made on the diggings. He was a strong, healthy looking, but morose and gloomy Scot, whose life was embittered by the evil repute attached to his houses.

In the year mentioned the end house nearest to the cottage was rented by a retired surveyor from the Government service, who had made money and reputation by hard work in the Riverina backblocks, and a right good fellow he was, although an avowed pagan and a sceptic with regard to "geists." He was a widower, with two daughters, both married, and residing in distant suburbs, and his household consisted of an elderly couple known to him from childhood, and a magnificent white (you radiate sunshine and light)atoo, which he had reared himself. Soon after he had settled down I became an inmate in the capacity of his assistant in working but a number of field books in connection with private surveys, and occupied a room at the top of the house adjoining another which was used as a
storeroom for camp equipage and odds and ends of bush requisites.

My employer occupied a bedroom on the first floor, and usually slept with his door wide open, and when I returned from the city at night I could always tell whether he was at home or not. The servants, in a detached building at the back, had no entry to the house after the evening meal was cleared away. The adjoining house was not long afterwards, rented by a contractor, with a wife and one small daughter, and the other by a quiet old couple with one maid servant. The one we occupied was said to be the one in which the ghost performances usually took place, but we occupied it in peace and comfort for three months before anything happened to disturb us.

Then it happened. I had been detained later than usual in town in consequence of a visit to the Theatre Royal, where G. V. Brooke was then playing "Othello." with Robert Heir as Iago, and had to walk home. The surveyor had not returned, and I went on upstairs to my room. I had only partially undressed, when a succession of piercing screams came from, apparently, the sitting-room which adjoined the boss's bedroom. Then all was silent for about five minutes, when they were renewed with increasing violence and a noise as of furniture being smashed.

Acting on the impulse of the moment, but not without a feeling of something akin to fear, I seized a tomahawk, used for blazing trees in the field, and descended, candle in hand. The noises suddenly ceased, and the room was as its usual orderly condition. From there into my employer's room, and then into the dining-room. All was still, nothing disturbed, and, with a sense of great relief, I again reached my room, trying hard to make myself believe that I had been the victim of an overheated imagination.

Crept into bed, but had scarcely settled down when footsteps were distinctly audible on the stairs. Jumped out, and once more picked up the tomahawk. Those awful screams were renewed immediately outside the door, but not until all was again quiet could I muster courage to open it, and then only when I heard the welcome sound of the boss's latch key in the front door. When I told him he laughed up roariously, and expressed the utmost regret that he had been absent and unable to welcome the ghost.

But the morning put an entirely different complexion on it. Our neighbor, the contractor, called to ask if anything was wrong, and to express the hope that if it was necessary for us to fight and quarrel we might make less noise, as his wife had been aroused by the disturbance and his child frightened almost into convulsions. Still the surveyor laughed, and persisted in declaring that "it must have been the (you radiate sunshine and light)atoo."

But the servants had the (you radiate sunshine and light)atoo outside in their own quarters, so that theory was upset. Having no fancy for a repetition of the scare, and more than half believing the stories I had heard about the ghost, I shifted my quarters into a boarding house in the vicinity, to the ill concealed disgust of the boss, but the landlord was visibly ill at ease when he became acquainted with the details.

A fortnight afterwards the old servant came to me when I arrived at the office and said:
"I think it is best that I go for the doctor. The master is ill. I found him this morning standing in the corner of the room undressed, white, and speechless, except for the words 'The ghost! the ghost!'

Some of his hair had been forcibly torn out, and his limbs were terribly bruised. The doctor who came had him removed immediately to the house of a friend living at Richmond, and I heard, long afterwards, that he never properly recovered from the shock up to the time of his death. He may have told his friend the story of that terrible night, but to my knowledge he was the only one, and if he knew he kept it a profound secret.

The houses were again deserted, and, as no one would live in them, they were pulled down, the land sold, and the site is now occupied by two dainty little villas. But I still believe that the dour Scot landlord knew more about the truth than he was likely, in his own interests, to divulge. It was certainly to his advantage to have the houses occupied, so that he can scarcely be suspected of having played the ghost himself.

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW Sat 9 Dec 1916
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 24, 2022, 02:53:59 AM

Christinas Eve on the wallaby with Matilda, up is not a pleasant prospect and Christmas eve 1933 was no exception. Blue-nose Jack and myself walked along the channels of Cooper's Creek for over 300 miles making to Adelaide, which we hoped to reach by easy stages, going by Lake Blanche and Lake Torrens. We counted on putting in Christmas Day at old Buldudgerie homestead, now long deserted, standing right on the banks of the Pelican Lagoon, the biggest waterhole on the Cooper. Old Buldudgerie used to belong to a rich Englishman but he abandoned it, and the old buildings, mostly stone, were still standing, and no one living in any of them.

Sure enough we got to Buldudgerie about 4 o'clock on Christmas Eve, found the place deserted, a big old rambling two-storied place, looking out over the Pelican lagoon, with a boatshed, and a landing stage, for a boat, all going to ruin. We soon fixed a camp, Blue-Nose and I, in the old homestead and set a few lines for fish in the hole. We were well rewarded for our trouble and soon caught a dozen big yellow-belly. After we had a good feed, Blue-nose and i retired for the night in one of the many rooms of the old homestead.

A little after midnight i was awakened by hearing someone pass my door a quick stealthily, hurried step which stopped at the big room at the end of the passage. I also thought I could hear a sound, like sobbing, and after a pause of a minute or two, i could hear the footsteps going past our door again. I awoke Blue-nose and we went out and searched, but could find no one, everything was deadly still, except a few frogs creaking in the rushes down by the lagoon and in the distance the cry of a dingo. Christmas Day we put in fishing, sleeping and swimming in the Pelican lagoon and after another big feed of yellow-bellies and nardoo, we to bed.

It must have been about 2 o'clock in the morning when Blue-nose awoke me, saying that a woman had just passed the door and stopped opposite the big room at the end of the passage. We listened, a after a minute or two could hear what appeared like a sobbing sound and then a quick step down the long passage. We both opened the door and looked out and in the bright moonlight clearly saw a white figure hurrying, with bowed head, to the landing stage and disappear in the water. We both saw this and decided we would not go back to the house, but camped outside until daylight.

We went to the room to get our swags and there, across the verandah and along the passage, was a light well defined footmark right up to the big room at the end of the passage and back again to the end of the landing stage, where it led into the water. Blue-nose and I decided we had about enough of Pelican waterhole and the old homestead and rolled up our swags and made tracks down the creek.

We had gone only about 3 miles when we met an old swaggie whom we knew, old "Mickey the Mouse." We pulled up and had a pitch, and he said. "Where did you camp last night." We told him and he said, "No one ever goes there, that place is haunted, i will tell you what happened there a few years ago."

This is what "Mickey the Mouse" told us.

Buldudgerie Station used to belong to an Englishman, a Mr Marjoribanks, and he married a very rich but plain wife, who had willed all her estate to him. Now this Mr Marjioribanks was a fickle man and was not really fond of his rich, but plain wife, but sad to say, was in love with a beautiful girl at Windorah, away up the creek.
Mr Marjoribanks wanted to marry the fair maid of Windorah, but could not do so while his rich wife was alive.

One Christmas night Mr Marjoribanks persuaded his wife to go for a row in the big lagoon and, after being away for about half an hour, he came running up to the station and woke everyone up, stating that the boat turned over at the landing stage and that Mrs Marjoribanks had been drowned. They all rushed down to the landing stage and, after a search, found Mrs Marjoribanks body, of course she was dead. They took her body up to the big room at the end of the passage, where we had heard the footsteps and sobbing. There was a bit of comment about the matter at the time, and a good deal of suspicion pointed to Mr. Marjoribanks, but nothing could be proved against him.

Within a week Mr Marjoribanks had married the fair maid of Windorah and they were down at Bulbudgerie for the honeymoon. One night, about midnight, the door was pushed open and a figure looked in on them and fairly frightened the wits out of the pair of them. After another moment, or two, the figure turned, and with bowed head, made down the passage way and out to the boat-shed.

Mr. Marjoribanks jumped out of bed and struck a match and saw the figure moving out of the house towards the lagoon and along the passage was the track of wet footsteps making towards tho boatshed. After this they both went to live near Lake Pure for a while, and after visiting Windorah for the races, they went home to London and never returned to Queensland. This is the story of the haunted house as told to Blue-nose and myself last year by "Mickey the Mouse."
I have just set down what we saw, word for word.

Published by The Longreach Leader Qld. Wed 5 Dec 1934
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 25, 2022, 02:25:36 AM

I wish to make a confession. I'm not a believer in ghosts. I never saw one. Yet there's a circumstance happened in my life that I can't explain, try my best.

In the year 1861, I was digging on Inglewood. It had been a great rush, there must have been fully thirty thousand people there, and a tremendous deal of gold had been got. It had been a wicked place, too, as most big rushes are. There was vice of all sorts, and some murders, more, I fancy, than were ever found out.

Well, at that time I was living up at the back of Daly's Hill. Daly's Hill is the highest point of ground that separates Inglewood from the fall to Thompson's Gully. The hills and gullies there abouts are all covered with thick scrub some eight or nine feet high. At the back of Daly's Hill is a little gully, which runs down a long distance, and then opens out on the Loddon Flats. This gully had been rushed, and a fair lot of gold had been taken out, but the rush was over, and the people had all left.

Looking for a place to set to work in, I happened one day to stroll into this gully. I liked the look of it, and I liked the quiet more. Having my pick and shovel and tin dish with me, I set to work, and as the sinking was only three feet, I bottomed a hole that morning. I got a good wash, and, trying some in my dish was satisfied with the prospect. I left my tools there, and went and fetched my tent. There was a stone chimney that had been left by some of the diggers, and against this I fixed my tent, being glad of it, as the days were getting cold, and as I like a fire to sit and read by at night. I seldom saw any one.

There was one man, however, used to come over of an evening sometimes, and have a chat. He didn't know much, but he always had a lot of news, and he was called the "walking newspaper." The name fitted him so far as I was concerned, for he seemed to know every one and everything about the place. He was a short chunky man, pretty fat, with a round face, merry black eyes, and a curly black head. I think I see him now, as he used to sit on the opposite side of the fire on an empty gin case, with his hands on his knees, and his eyes sparkling. One evening he came over to me, but was more thoughtful than I had ever seen him. Try his best he could not tell a bit of news through, but would break off in the middle—sigh—and look into the fire for five minutes at a time.
I did not take much notice of him at first; but presently I observed his manner, yet although wondered at it, I didn't say anything.

Presently he said, " Do you know whose chimney this was?" I confessed I didn't.

" Well," said he, " it belonged to a tall thin chap with grey hair and hollow cheeks. He always kept to himself, and never spoke more than he could help. He was the prospector of the 'Robbie Burns Reef,' on the other side of the hill. You must have heard how, after the last crushing, he was missed, and, though sought for, never found, the police, when he couldn't be found, came and took his traps away from this very chimney. It's pretty well forgotten now, however, though some believe—and I believe too—he was murdered. However, his claim was taken up by Dusty Bob, but not another spec of gold could be got, and Bob was so frightened by noises he heard that he wouldn't work there any more. Other chaps have tried, but they never would go to the north end, for it was
there the noises were, like some one working and every morning they could see where a fresh lot of reef had been knocked down. So everyone believed that it was the ghost of the prospector, and wouldn't go near. Well, the people went away, and others came, and the story was forgotten again until some children, who used to go over the hill after goats, would bring back tales of the curious knockings they heard, and frightened people very much, though they saw nothing, though red headed Sal said she saw something white by her fence one night. Well, this set me thinking. Thinks I, perhaps the old buffer knows where the lost lead of gold is to be found, and wants us to find it. Thinking so, as I came here this evening, I thought there would be no harm in going down the workings, and having a look. But when I got down, I heard such a tap, tap-tapping of picks and hammers, and such a hollow laugh and a groan, that I cut as quickly as I could, and came here. If there was two hundred onnces to the ton, I wouldn't go down again. And now I must go home, and you may as well walk a bit of the way with me."

I saw he was afraid, and wanted me to go past the haunted reef, and as I didn't care a bit, I went with him.
As we got abreast of the hole, true enough there was the tap-tapping, and the laugh and the groan. On hearing it the "walking newspaper" started at a run, and left me alone. I drew nearer and nearer, and could still hear the noise as plainly as possible. I should think I stayed for an hour, during the whole of which time the ghosts continued working. I then walked home, thinking the matter over. I knew people said that concealed money or gold was often revealed in such ghostly fashion; but I did not believe in ghosts, and so could arrive at no satisfactory conclusion.

I must just here say that I had one other friend, an old man, who had been working along side me at the Back Creek rush. He had daughter twenty years old, a good looking quiet girl. I used to sit in their tent of nights, reading the whole time to myself, and never a word said. She liked it. It used to suit her, and so we fell in love, and were engaged to get married, though her father said the marriage should not take place till I had five hundred pounds. Now I did not possess at the time more than that number of pence; but we were in no hurry, and Dora was quite willing to wait until I had a slice of luck, and found either a nugget or a big patch. The day before I heard of the ghost, however, I had heard bad news. The old man had got tired of Inglewood, and was intending to go to the Pyrenees to dig. I couldn't go, for I was getting short, and so Dora and I were in a bad way.

Well, I got home from the "Robbie Burns," and sat by my fire with my chin upon my hands thinking and thinking, but could not see how I could help having to part with Dora, and her sorrowful face kept coming up before me, and I believed I cried. All at once I was startled by a tap, tap-tapping at my chimney outside, and then a laugh and a groan like I had heard down the cutting. I started up, frightened at first; but then, thinking it might be my late visitor out for a lark, I sat down again, near the door this time, intending, if it was repeated, to pop out and catch him in the act.

It came again, the same tapping, laugh, and groan. I was out in a moment. It was clear moon light but nothing was to be seen, not a leaf stirred, not a stick cracked. I went round the tent, and dodged back again, thinking to catch the intruder, if he was lurking, but no one was there. Wondering, I re-entered my tent, and almost immediately the knocking was renewed. I sat awestruck. I was not frightened, for I thought if any hurt was intended, it would have been done to me before.

I remembered that it was at the ghost's chimney that the noise was being made, I must have sat there for an hour, the noise returning at intervals, each time more violently, until at last a tap more powerful than any sent the stones flying into my tent The tapping thenceforth was continuous, until I saw the whole chimney demolished, apparently without hands. I now bethought me that perhaps I was wanted at the "Robbie Burns." At all events I thought I would go, and see if the ghosts were at work there too. I took a candle with me to light when I got below. All was quiet at first, but presently I heard a tapping at the north end, but no laugh or groan. I went forward, and the tapping continued. I got quite to the place, and when I heard the knocking, I knocked in response.

My knock was answered. This occurred again and again, until I thought I would try with my pick, and see if I could find what the knocking was about, I turned my pick (for I had been knocking with the hammer end, it being a driving pick) and with a few blows dislodged a large junk of slate. On looking with my candle, I started back with surprise, there was a snug little pocket lay a lot of gold and quartz, Now I guessed what the ghost meant. I returned to my tent for a bag (not heeding the wind, for it was blowing a gale now), and coming back soon, had the whole of the treasure in my possession.

I returned to my tent now a contented man, and in the morning found that there was gold enough to raise the five hundred pounds required. As a result, I married Dora, and we shifted to this place, and I have been always thankful to the ghost, though still a doubter, and though still unable to explain the mystery.

Published by Adelaide Observer SA Sat 25 Dec 1880
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 25, 2022, 02:51:09 AM

‘ You recollect Bob Jackson, who used to go to the old King's School, don't you ?' 

' Yes, to be sure’ answered several of the old scholars, whilst one added., ‘He was drowned wasn't he ?' 

' He was’ continued Gus gloomily, 'and it is in connection with his death that the strange circumstance I am about to relate occurred.’

He was going to his father's station and meeting him in Singleton, we agreed to travel together as far as the Page. We crossed the river, and though there was a little fresh coming down, the water was barely up to the horses girths; we had got some seven miles from the river, and had just past the old sheep station hut that stood so long, ruined and deserted. You know the kind of country it is there, fine open forest and level ground, in which you may see and recognise a beast at half a mile distant. Just a nice clear apple tree country without a bit of undergrowth large enough to shelter a bandicoot.

We were riding steadily along, laughing and joking and thinking of anything but supernatural appearances, when suddenly we heard the most piercing shrieks from the bush on our right. We both turned in that direction instantly, and what was our astonishment when we saw a woman rushing wildly through the bush, her dress in disorder, her hair hanging down all dishevelled upon her shoulders, traces of blood upon her hands, arms, and face, and uttering the frightful screams that had drawn our attention to her as she wrung her hands in what seemed to be the intensity 
of agony.

We looked at each other, and I don't know what feeling it was that prevented me from uttering a word or from rushing forward. The woman however came on with astounding rapidity, and, as we 
turned our eyes upon her again, she crossed the road, without taking the slightest notice of us, and rushed  into the bush on our left, still continuing her piercing cries and frantic actions. By this time Bob, who was the first to recover himself shouted after her. She gave, no heed to his cries, but continued her wild career. We then looked round to see if she was pursued, but nothing was to be seen in the direction where she had come. When we again turned towards where we had last seen the woman she was no longer in sight, and the shrieks had ceased. 

' Well, this is a rum start !' said Bob. 

' It certainly is very strange !' I assented. ' Seeing the way she can cut along,' I don't think they'd have a chance of catching her.' 

' What do you think about it, Gus?' he asked. 

' I don't know what to think Bob, for somehow I couldn't persuade myself that the thing was real. 

' I believe that we have been deceived in some way !' 

' Deceived! nonsense!' he answered, ' that would be well enough if there had been only one of us. But we both saw her, and two people don't make a mistake.’

' Don't be too sure of that. I tell you Bob that I don't believe that we have seen anything.’

' But we heard the shrieks !' he added.

However, whether or no I'll make sure about it and with that he dug the spurs into his horse's side, and galloped off into the bush towards where we had last seen the woman. 

I don't know what it was that kept me back ; a kind of feeling such as l had never experienced before, and which sent my hair bristling up from the very roots, came over me when I turned in that direction. I did not follow him then; but sitting on my horse, I watched him as he rode along searching the ground for tracks, and dismounting in order to look more closely. He was not long away, and I noticed that he looked pale, nervous, and anxious when he joined me. 

' Did you find her ?' I asked. 

' No,' he answered, and his voice sank as he added, ' nor did I find any sign of her. I looked over 
the place where I could swear I saw her pass, but I couldn't find so much as a single track.' 

'Just as I thought,' I rejoined. 'It was some ocular deception of which we have been the victims’

' But how about the screams ?' he asked. 

' It might have been a jackass, or a curlew, or some other bird, and our fancy turned the cries into 

Bob shook his head but said nothing. We were not very lively on, our way to Aberdeen, but when we reached there, we halted for a quarter of an hour, to refresh ourselves and our horses. This enlivened us a bit, and we got into our old laughing and chatting manner as we rode down to the river. About a hundred yards from the river we met a couple of travellers who had just crossed.

‘ Hurry on, hurry on, young fellers ‘ said one, 'if you want to get across, for the fresh is coming down at a deuce of a rate, and it was only just as much as we could do to get over without swimming.' 

Thanking him for the warning we galloped down to the stream. We were both upon steady old horses accustomed to the water, and on which you might depend your life to take you across a broader river than the Hunter at Aberdeen. We therefore did not hesitate a moment, but at once plunged in, in order, to lose no time. On the farther or northern bank, the water is much deeper than on the side at which we entered, and I found when I neared this spot that even before I had reached what l knew to be the deepest place, my horse was swimming. The current was running very rapidly, the water like so much pea-soup, but my horse breasted it nobly. Just as I was in the strongest part of the current I turned to look at Bob. He was only five or six yards behind me, heading his horse steadily up stream and making for the landing. In a few more seconds, my horse's feet touchcd the ground, he gave a plunge or two and we were safe on shore.

I then turned to watch for Bob. His horse was making way admirably, and he was now in the very force of the current when a huge log borne down on the stream, caught broadways on across horse and rider, and in an instant both went down. Without considering the consequences to my 
self, I leapt my horse into the stream and swam him towards the spot where I had seen Bob go down ; but the horse must have struck him, or something else must have kept him down, for he never rose again. Had he done so, I must have seen him. It was only with the greatest difficulty that I once more regained the river bank, where I lay for some time half senseless from exertion and excitement. As soon as I could once more move about, I gave the alarm, and before long had assistance to search for the body.

It was not, however, until the fresh had subsided that the body of poor Bob was found some ten miles lower down the river. The bodies of horse and rider lay together on a mud bank, poor Bob's foot having in some inexplicable manner got entangled in the stirrup leather, and thus he and the horse had helped to drown each other.

The most curious part of the story has yet to come, I was talking to old Dobson about Bob's death. You know he is a very old resident in that part, and is acquainted with all the in's and outs of every property and station in the district. I happened to mention casually the circumstance of our having encountered the screaming woman. It was the first, and with this exception will be the last time that I shall speak of it. Old Dobson's red cheeks turned absolutely pale, or rather I should say a light blue colour, as I told this part of the story.

‘ Did you both see her?' he asked. 

' Yes,' said I. 

' And did you both follow her into the bush ?' he questioned almost breathlessly and I thought trembling.

' No,' I replied, ‘ I couldn't help thinking that it was some ocular deception, and so remained on the 
road. Bob, however, followed her but could see nothing. He even tried to make out her tracks but 
could find none.' 

' Then thank your stars, Mr. Dashwood, for if you'd followed her, your life wouldn't have been worth a week's purchase,' and with a sigh of relief, he shook me by the hand and congratulated me on 
my escape.

Mr. Jackson's death is now fully accounted for. Nothing could have saved him and he then mentioned the names of several persons who had seen this ill-omened spectre, for it was nothing else. Everyone of those who had
attempted to follow and trace out the spirit had perished miserably within twenty-four hours, either by accident or violence. 

' So then,' said Harry Buckley, ' when I get into the bush, I must take precious good care not to go 
running after the women, especially if they are given to screaming.'

‘ You need not be alarmed,' cried Frank, ' a sensible ghost wouldn't certainly set up a scream at 
your good looking face, however Gus's moustache and beard may have frightened it.' 

' He is safe,' continued Gus, 'for I have never heard of the appearance of this fatal spectre except in the vicinity of the old sheep station hut.' 

' And what may have been her particular object in amusing herself in this way after death ?' asked 

Old Dobson told me the story.
Very many years ago, the present spectre had been a very handsome, but a very dissolute and violent tempered woman. She was married to the man, a shephord, who inhabited the now ruined and deserted hut. In one of her paroxysms of passion at an accusation made by her husband, she stabbed him to the heart. Immediately afterwards overcome by remorse and perhaps by the dread of punishment she rushed away raving into the bush.

There she must have perished miserably, for some three or four months afterwards what were 
supposed, by the remnants of clothing near them, to be her remains, were found torn and scattered by native dogs. Ever since that time she makes occasional visits to the scene of her crime and punishment, and rushing along through the bush utters the same wild shrieks that she sent forth when alive ; but woe to the man who shall dare to follow, or attempt to trace her.

Published by Sydney Mail NSW Sat 29 Dec 1866

Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 25, 2022, 03:03:49 AM

Within the last few days a very general topic of conversation in town has been some extraordinary, and at present wholly unaccounted for, occurrences that have taken place on the premises of Mr Rogers, cabinetmaker, in Auburn-street. The house occupied by him is situated nearly opposite the Australian Store, and is two-storied. Before being taken by Mr Rogers it was used as a public house.

Shortly after Mr Rogers went into it, some very strange noises were heard at night in the lower story, sounds as if the furniture were being moved about, doors opened and shut or banged to, and persons walking about, and this all at a time when the outer doors were securely fastened, and none but the regular inmates were inside.

On several occasions Mr Rogers has had friends to stop with him during the night, and these have heard the same noises, but on going to the spot from whence they apparently proceeded, nothing more was heard.

Adjoining the house are some other premises, formerly used as a butcher's shop, and at the back of this are two small rooms and the staircase. The noises in this house have generally preceeded from the furniture shop, or about the foot of the stairs, or from one of the two rooms alluded to, which is used as a bedroom. The noises have frequently been heard at intervals for about nine months, and every attempt on the part of Mr Rogers or his friends to detect the cause of them has been unsuccessful.

A young man, a journeyman cabinet maker, who only came from Sydney a fortnight ago, and who has slept from his arrival in the bedroom at the back of the shop until Friday last, informed us that since he came he has never had but one night's rest. The very first night he slept in the house he was astonished about twelve o'clock by hearing a tremendous crash, as if a chest of drawers had been thrown down stairs and smashed to atoms. He rushed out of the room to see what was the matter, but nothing was to be seen except Mr Rogers, who had come down stairs on the same errand.

On Thursday last the young man was alarmed in the middle of the night by hearing the handles of the three doors simultaneously turned, and some one walk up his room to his bedside, and then walk away again. Since then he has objected to sleep down stairs, and has accordingly been domiciled above. On Friday night the inmates, with another, sat up all night and heard nothing. On Saturday night the noises were heard again as usual, and also on Sunday night, when sounds similar to the moving of furniture in the shop was distinctly heard by a constable on duty in the street, who had been informed of the circumstances, and who called another constable to hear them ; before the arrival of the latter, however, they had ceased.

On Monday night both Mr Rogers and his assistant heard footsteps ascending the stairs, and the assistant says he heard a voice addressing him ; he tried to speak, but was speechless, as if from lock-jaw. The same night Constables Walker and M 'Carthy, who were on the look out, distinctly heard footsteps inside the shop, and also in the unoccupied premises adjoining ; they ran round to the back of the latter, and forcing open the door, rushed in, made a thorough search, but could find nothing.

We may state that similar noises were heard as far back as fifteen years ago, and when the house was occupied by the late Mr Noonan as a public house, and also subsequently by Mr Joseph Carroll. These is a cellar underneath the shop, and this Mr Rogers had partially excavated last Thursday morning, in the expectation that perhaps something might be discovered to elucidate the mystery ; all however, that was discovered were a couple of spoons and a small mallet bespattered with what looked like blood; on being examined by Dr Waugh, however, he pronounced the stains to be spirit stains.

The house in question was built by a butcher named Harrison, and there is a curious tale in reference to the circumstances under which he disposed of it. He has been dead seventeen years.
A man named (sorry we don't allow swearing on the forum) the sailor was murdered on the premises about six years ago.

Published by Mount Alexander Mail Vic Mon 27 Aug 1866
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 25, 2022, 03:11:24 AM

About 25 years ago, being in want of a house in Sydney, my parents became tenants of an old one called Grange, situated across the harbour, in the suburb of North Shore. Grange was a large one storey place, built in the early days of the colony by an English officer, who was in charge of convicts. In the quadrangle, which during our time was a yard surrounded by domestic offices, was still to be seen a triangle, formerly used for flogging.

Beneath the basement were three large cellars, with vaulted roofs, two of them communicating with each other by heavy iron studded doors. The furthest and smallest, used by us as a dairy, had been a prison, and between it and the largest was our dining-room, once the guard-room, the door of which, consisted of a strong grating. Similar gratings barred the windows, the tops of which were about a foot above the level of the ground outside. The further cellar was used by us as a kitchen.

In the grounds, which were very extensive, was an old well, down which tradition stated a prisoner had been pushed by a female convict. The dining-room, too, had been the scene of a tragedy. An officer had been found there one morning, sitting at the table with an open book, dead, shot through the back.

My father, grandfather, and great-grand-father had all been soldiers, the first-mentioned having come out with Governor Bligh. My mother and grandmother, the latter of whom lived with us, had seen strange things in the old convict times, and I can truthfully affirm that the ghastly stories connected with the old house affected us not a whit. For about three months after our taking the house, nothing unusual occurred.

Then a housemaid told my mother that some of the servants, sitting up till a late hour after the family had gone to bed, had been surprised to hear a low muttering conversation in the dining room, which at length sounded as if several people were talking together with occasional laughter. Looking into the room, however, they said that it was tenantless, while, undisturbed by their presence, the sounds went on, seemingly in angry altercation, until a sharp shriek was heard, and all was silent.

This was a strange story, but on questioning the other servants, they all declared that they had heard the noises just as the girl described. For many nights the same thing went on. We all (my father included) heard the sounds, which, usually began towards midnight, and lasted for over an hour. Strict investigation was made, but without result.

Two of the servants gave notice to leave, declaring the place was haunted. Some months passed, and we became quite accustomed to the noises. My father, finding he could buy the house for a moderate sum, became its purchaser. The noises were still heard at intervals, but though unable to explain, we paid but little attention to them.

One night, during the winter season, my mother gave a dinner party. It was a dark night, and the rain, which had fallen during the day, had made the ground soft. All the expected guests duly arrived by boat, with the exception of one, and the dinner passed off as usual. Afterwards, as we were in the drawing-room, a carriage was heard to drive into the yard, the brake was put on at the gate, where the ground sloped, the harness jangled, and the vehicle stopped.

‘Mr B’ said my father. 'I wonder what has made him so late?'

Time passed, and as the expected guest did not appear, my father went out to inquire as to the late arrival, and was surprised to hear that no one had come. The servants, like ourselves, had heard the sound of wheels, and the man had gone out to render assistance ; but on entering the yard had found it empty, and the gate shut, so certain was everybody of the arrival of a vehicle that, to solve the mystery, lights were taken out, and the yard examined. All the guests had come in by the front entrance, and the soft ground in the yard bore no trace of wheel marks. This was by no means the only time the strange carriage was heard to roll in and stop.

On various occasions, ourselves, guests, and servants heard it distinctly, but no trace of it was ever seen by anyone. On Christmas vacation we had staying with us a young fellow, a friend of ours. The weather was hot, and we were all in the garden.

Our visitor, however, had occasion to go down for something to the dining-room, and coming back surprised us by asking, 'Who is the man in the dairy?'

'In the dairy?' said my mother. 'There can be no one there; it is locked, and I have the key in my pocket.'

'Well, at any rate, there's a fellow in there, a man in a blue jersey.'

My brother went at once to investigate; but soon returned, saying the place was locked as usual, and there was no one there. Our guest, however, persisted in saying he had certainly seen a man in a blue knitted jersey standing with his back to the grated door, looking through the barred window.

A few days after the same visitor, coming from the dining-room, called out to me, ‘I say Bob, there's that fellow in the dairy again!'

Going to the room with him, we both saw a man dressed in an odd kind of blue jacket, standing in the dairy. His back was towards us, and his face turned to the window. I called out to him, asking what he was doing there, but he neither spoke nor stirred. I tried the door; it was locked, but wishing to come to conclusions with the fellow, whom I believed to be there for a dishonest purpose, I hurried off for the key. My friend met me as I returned, looking pale and frightened. 'He's gone,' he said. 'I looked after you for a moment, and when I turned my head there was nothing.'

We searched the place thoroughly. There was no possible hiding-place or mode of egress, save through the grated door. Walls and floor were of strongly cemented stone, and the only window was protected by solid bars of iron. Shortly after this incident my father sold the place, and we moved to a distant part of the country. Time passed, and I became acquainted with a young lady, a Miss C , who, in course of conversation, mentioned that she had formerly lived near Sydney, at a place called Grange. I then remembered that it had been purchased by a Mr C, and asked a few questions about the old place.

‘We did not live there long,' said Miss C. We heard the strangest noises in the basement, people laughing, quarrelling, and screaming. Sometimes a carriage seemed to drive into the yard. The neighbors all said the place was haunted. The servants would not stay, and all of us became so nervous that we had to leave.'

Published by Evening News Sydney, NSW Sat 16 Dec 1899
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 28, 2022, 12:53:54 AM

There is a house in Henna street in which a young woman died some time since, under circumstances which gave rise to unpleasant rumors at the time. The house is now inhabited by Mr J. Manning, who is about to carry on the business of a hay and corn merchant.

The apparition which is said to haunt the premises appeared first to two sons of the tenant, aged respectively 19 and 25 years of age. They were sleeping in a small room of the house, to the window of which on the night in question, there was no blind. The elder brother states that about two o'clock in the morning he was awakened by feeling something like a rash of cold air over his face. Thinking that the door or window of the apartment was open, he cast his eyes towards each, but observed that they were closed.

On settling down again he was considerably startled at seeing the figure of a woman standing by the fire place a few feet from him. The figure was clad in dark clothes, with a kind of cowl over the head. The pale glimpses of the moon which found their way into the chamber were not sufficient to define the figure accurately, so that its features could not be discerned. With considerable trepidation Manning turned to awaken his brother, and for a moment took his eyes off the figure. In that moment it vanished.

Manning asked his brother to get a light, without saying a word of the spectral appearance. The younger man rose up in bed to get a match from his garment, and he was immediately rendered speechless by an appearance in the corner of the room. When he recovered his speech, he said that there was a figure in the corner, and retreated under the bed clothes. Calling their manhood to the rescue, the two men-stalwart specimens of the geuis homo-made up their minds to solve the mystery.

It may here be said that the one who first saw the sceptre did not see it again after losing sight of it at the
fireplace. They both rose together to "lay the ghost," but on going to the corner they saw nothing. The door of the room was closed and so was the window, both being as they had left them when they had retired to rest. Such is their story , and so thoroughly impressed are they that they saw an apparition, that neither have slept in the room since, but have taken up their quarters in the front room of the house. Every night the sleeping rooms of the family are now illuminated, and lights are kept burning till morning, in dread of the visitation.

It is probably because the family were expecting a re-appearance of the apparition, that it was again seen a few nights after its first visit, and this time by the father. Manning was lying awake and looking through the open door of his bedroom into the room where his sons were sleeping beyond, when a grey figure with a cowl over its head, such as described by the younger son passed slowly across the room. It appeared as if it had gained entrance by the front door, but both front and back doors were found locked after the disappearance of the figure.

There is no doubt that the inmates of the house have had a great fright from some cause or other, and there is a disposition to connect the disturbing element with the manes of the poor girl who breathed her last in the house under such circumstances that an investigation into the cause of her death was rendered necessary

Published by Geelong Advertiser Vic Sat 12 Jun 1880
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 28, 2022, 01:01:10 AM

Records of the Monaro district abound in stories of wayside ghosts, shades of bushrangers who have returned to the scenes of their crimes, sudden apparitions of the long since dead.

One such spook is known as the Martinet Major. A bachelor, he was a martinet of the worst kind. He had a number of convicts working for him, including an unruly member who had been sent out as a political rebel. The latter resented the fact that he was a "lag" along with the riff-raff working on the station, and his attitude exasperated the pompous major.

One day the major abused this convict, who picked up a stone and threw it at him. The major, who was also a magistrate, immediately sentenced the man to death, and the hanging took place on the property the same evening.

But, so the story goes, the convict had his revenge. He haunted the place in a disgraceful fashion, singing ribald songs at the foot of the major's four posted bedstead, hunting the cattle out of the barns at night, kicking over buckets of milk left on the dairy floor by the milkmaids, rattling tins and tolling bells at midnight until the major could no longer stand it. Thoroughly annoyed, though he never admitted being scared, he sold his property and returned to England. The present owner of the property has never seen the ghost.


Another famous Monaro spectre was known as the "Black Horse of Sutton." This apparition was allegedly seen by a certain family, but only when disaster befell their house. The first visitation was soon after the father of the house had gone to Goulburn to arrange a land deal to extend his large property. As he was returning home he was thrown from his horse and killed.

The tragedy occurred on a mild summer night; the man's wife was seated on the broad flagged verandah of the homestead when she heard the faint echo of galloping hoofs along the dusty home road. There was a pause, then the sound of a gate being opened, the wheeling of a horse as though a man had turned to close the gate, the clanging sound as if it had shut again; then, once more, the sound of galloping hoofs.

The woman stood up and walked to the top of the verandah steps to welcome her husband.
"It must be John," she said to herself. "Strange, I wonder why he didn't cooee as he always does?
Why-I'm trembling! Perhaps it's just-oh!-his horse! John! John! Where are you?"

A riderless horse had come into view, its hoofs pounding on the drive. It crossed the lawn at breakneck speed straight towards the house. The sound was muffled a moment, then was taken up again at the back of the house. The riderless horse had apparently passed through the house and disappeared into the ranges beyond. When a search was made, the man was found dead, his horse grazing nearby.

Old identities in the district will tell you that when disaster came again to that family the riderless horse was seen galloping once more. It allegedly made its appearance when the woman's eldest son was killed at the Boer War, and again when the youngest son met his death in an accident. The house was demolished long ago and today sheep graze across the country where the riderless horse comes no more.

Published by The Sydney Morning Herald NSW Sat 20 Sep 1952


A ghost story has been exciting some attention at Strathalbyn (South Australia), concerning which a well known resident writes to the local Press as follows : —

Whilst taking a walk very early one morning, through some motive which I cannot account for, I was induced to walk through a certain burying ground, and coming to a grave surrounded by a wall and covered with a slab of slate, I noticed on the slate something strange. It was scarcely light enough to see distinctly at first, but after waiting some few minutes I could see it plainly, and it appeared to be a side view of a female. I could distinctly trace the head and body and the skirts, apparently full size.

Not being satisfied with the sight I rubbed my hand on the form, and found that portion of the slate was perfectly dry, whilst the parts outside the form were very wet with the dew which had fallen, and still not being satisfied I walked away, and came back in about fifteen or twenty minutes afterwards, and still the form was there, so I determined upon visiting it again next morning, which I did and continued doing so for a week or more. During this time I only saw the form once after the first morning ; but not being a believer in supernatural appearances I tried to define the cause, but failed.

In the course of conversation I told Mr Morton what I had seen, and he visited the place and saw the form, although not so plain as it was when I saw it. The form was to be seen, and it has been seen since by others. Now, I believe there is some natural cause which produces this strange appearance, and perhaps some person upon reading this will be able to satisfy the minds of those who saw it, although many things have been advanced by people as the probable cause, but none that seems satisfactory to my mind and those who have been eye-witnesses of the sight.

Published by Ovens and Murray Advertiser Beechworth, Vic Sat 26 Aug 1871
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 28, 2022, 01:11:00 AM

On the evening of September 29, in the front drawing room of a house in the immediate neighbourhood of Portland place, a select number of persons were invited to witness some strange manifestations which took place in the presence, if not by the agency, of three gentlemen lately arrived from America, and who have passed in their own country as spiritualists of the most gifted order.

The party consists of two brothers, named Davenport, 24 and 25 years of age, and a Mr. Fay, accompanied by Mr. H. D. Palmer, and a Dr. Ferguson, who explains the nature of the manifestations.

The party invited to witness the manifestation consisted of some fourteen or fifteen individuals, all of whom are admitted to be of considerable distinction in the various professions in which they are connected. The majority had never previously witnessed anything of the kind ; and all were determined to detect, and, if possible, expose any attempt at deception.

At the upper end of the department was placed what might be called a skeleton wardrobe, composed of walnut wood less than an inch in thickness. The portion in which the drawers of a similar piece of furniture are usually to be found was empty, but a seat or bench, perforated here and there with holes was fitted to the back and ends. The door consists of three panels, which shut inside with a brass bolt, thus when the middle door is open, any person can put his hand in and bolt the side doors. The bolt of the middle door was shut by some invisible agency from the inside.

The Brothers Davenport having seated themselves vis a vis on the end bench, their hands and feet were securely tied by those present so as to prevent the possibility of their using those members. A guitar, a tambourine, a violin and bow, a brass horn, and a couple of bells were placed on the seat inside, and the doors were shut. At the top of the panel of the centre door was a diamond shaped opening about a foot square with a curtain secured on the inside.

Instantly on the centre door being closed the bolt was secured on the inside, and hands were clearly observed through the opening. A gentleman present was invited to pass his hand through the opening, and it was touched by the hands several times. The musical instruments and the bells then commenced making all sorts of noises and knocking, snatches of airs were distinctly heard, and suddenly the centre door was burst open, and the trumpet was thrown out into the room, fell heavily upon the carpet. The doors were subsequently closed by persons, who, when doing so, were touched by invisible hands, and the noise of undoing the cords was distinctly heard.
A moment or two afterwards the brothers we found sitting unbound, with the ropes at their feet.

The next illustration was more curious still, for, after an interval of perhaps two minutes the brothers were found to be securely bound with the same cords, the ends of the ropes being some distance from their hands. One of the company present was then invited to take a seat in the cabinet as to assure himself that whatever might be done, could not be accomplished by the brothers. A gentleman having volunteered to be imprisoned in such mysterious company, his hands were securely tied to the hands of the Davenports, who’s hands were fastened behind their backs by cords passed through the holes in the bench, their feet were also tied together with a sailor's knot.

A tambourine was then laid in the gentleman's lap, upon which a guitar and violin were placed, as also a trumpet and couple of handbells. Any interference with these articles by the gentleman in whose lap they were deposited was rendered impossible, by reason of his hands being tied. He states that the instant the door was closed, hands were passed over his face and head, his hair was gently pulled, and the whole of the musical instruments were played upon, the bells were also violently rung close to his face. Eventually, the musical instruments were flung behind him and rested between his shoulders and the back of the cabinet. During these manifestations one of the gas burners of the chandelier was lighted and two wax candles were burning in different parts of the room.

Several other manifestations having taken place in connection with the cabinet, Dr. Ferguson explained that it would be desirable that the company should clasp hands and that the lights should be altogether extinguished. A small writing table had been previously placed in the centre of the room, with a chair at either side. The musical instruments were placed on the table. The Brothers Davenport were then menacled by the hands and feet, and securely bound to the chairs by ropes. A chain of communication (though not a circular one) was formed, and the instant the lights were extinguished the musical instruments appeared to be carried all about the room. The current of air which they occasioned in their rapid transit was felt upon the faces of all present.

The bells wore loudly rung ; the trumpet made knocks on the floor, and the tambourine appeared running round the room, jingling with all its might. At the same time tiny sparks were observed as if passing from south to west. Several persons exclaimed that they were touched by the instruments, which on one occasion became so demonstrative that one gentleman received a knock on the nasal organ, which broke the skin and caused a few drops of blood to flow. These manifestations having been repeated two or three times with nearly similar results.

The brothers Davenport joined the chain of communication, and Mr. Fay was bound in the chair. His hands were bound tightly behind his back, and his feet were firmly secured, as in the cabinet.

Astonishing although this appeared to be, what followed was more extraordinary still. Dr. Ferguson requested a gentleman present to take off his coat and place it on the table. This was done, the light was extinguished, a repetition of the whizzing noise was heard and the strange coat was found upon Mr. Fay, whose hands and feet were still securely bound, and his body tied almost immovably to the chair. A gentleman present then enquired whether, if he were to place two finger rings on the table, they could be transferred to the hand of Mr. Fay.

Dr. Ferguson said he could not undertake that this feat would be accomplished, but that an essay would be made. The rings were deposited on the table, the candle extinguished, and Mr. Fay immediately exclaimed, 'They are on my finger;' and surely enough there they were. The owner of the rings then expressed a wish that they might be restored to his fingers. As soon as the room was darkened the musical instruments commenced their mysterious concert, and, after an interval of about 30 seconds, a gentleman (not the owner) exclaimed that the rings had been placed on his fingers. This was found to be the case.

A lady next expressed a desire that a gold watch which she held in her hand might be conveyed to some distant portion of the room. Immediately afterwards the conceit was resumed ; the bell, tambourine, and horn became excited, and the lady exclaimed that the watch was gone. On the candle being lighted, it was found on the carpet at the feet of Dr. Ferguson. One of the bells was also found in the lap of a gentleman sitting near him.

Some doubt having been expressed as to whether it was possible for the Brothers Davenport to have moved chair and all in the darkness, so as to elevate the musical instruments in the air, and make them play, another illustration was volunteered by Dr Ferguson. Mr. Fay took his place among the visitors, holding a hand of each as before.

A gentle man present then sat down between the Davenports, and placed his hand upon the head of each, while he rested either foot on the feet of the Davenports, which were placed close together in a parallel direction to each other. The Davenports then clasped the arms of the gentleman, and in this position it would have been absolutely impossible for one of the group to have moved without disturbing the others. This pose having been arranged to the satisfaction of all present, the light was extinguished and the instruments was again heard as if moving in the air close to the faces of all present. Mr. Fay, as before stated , was seated in a row, clasping hands with the persons right and left of him, while Dr. Ferguson was similarly placed in another portion of the room.

With this last named illustration the seance terminated. It had lasted rather more than two hours, during which time the cabinet was minutely inspected, the coats examined to ascertain whether they were fashioned so as to favour a trick, and every precaution taken to bind the hands and feet of the persons whose presence appeared to be essential to the development of the manifestations.

Published by The Tumut and Adelong Times NSW Mon 16 Jan 1865
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 28, 2022, 01:15:43 AM

Great excitement prevails here, as well as at Carrieton and other places about, on account of a sensational ghost story that has been going the rounds for some time. On Monday night Trooper Mitchell and two residents of this place drove down to see or hear for themselves, and the following is their account of the ghostly visitant.

The scene of the wanderings of the spirit is the Boolcunda Creek, about 17 miles from here, and it appears to confine itself to the cottage of a Mr. Hamdorf, situated on the bank of the creek, about 30 yards from a large waterhole. Mr. Hamdorf and his family were away in Quron, having taken there a child of about 7 years of age, for whom the spirit seems to have had a partiality.

There were two boys of about 9 and 13 years of age stopping in the hut, and they seemed to take not the least notice of the disturbance. About 9 p.m., all being quiet, the light was extinguished, and all were on the qui vive. In a few minutes a great noise was heard as of someone splashing in water or walking in water. Immediately a knocking commenced at the north-east corner of the hut.

Two of the party went outside and heard the knocking as though inside, but could see nothing although they walked round the hut. Afterwards Trooper Mitchell went outside and heard the knocking just as the others had done. They thereupon asked questions and received replies by knocks, two knocks being regarded as signifying "No" and three knocks "Yes."

The information obtained that way was to the effect that the nocturnal visitor was dead, and had been buried 5 feet under the ground at the north-east corner of the hut. Mr. Hamdorf, it appears, elicited the same information, and dug a hole 6 feet deep at the place mentioned but found nothing. The knocks are of much the same character as those given by any ordinary person knocking at a door, but on being told to knock hard the "spirit" makes everything in the place rattle.

The cottage is built of upright pines with pug between. In about an hour the knocking ceased, and the investigators turned in, but not to sleep, that being out of the question. About 2 a.m. the ghost returned and started knocking again, Mr. Mitchell went out and walked round the hut, but could see nothing although the noise was kept up. This has been going on for the last six weeks, and Mr, Hamdorf has decided to abandon the place. Many residents of Carrieton have visited the place and have heard the same noises. Two or three shots have been fired in the direction of the sound, but nothing came of them. A party of six were there the night before. There is to be a large party from here next Sunday night to visit the place.

It may be mentioned that a shepherd was drowned in the waterhole some years ago. Whatever the cause of the disturbance, Trooper Mitchell is convinced that it is something very unnatural, and he is a man whose word is to be relied on. He intends to revisit the place next Sunday night and have another talk with the invisible being in order to try and fathom the mystery. The ghost, on being asked the distance from the hut to Cradock, knocked 17 times on the wall. The exact distance is 17 miles.

Published by The Express and Telegraph Adelaide, SA Fri 29 Apr 1887
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on June 28, 2022, 01:20:16 AM

The 11th of last December, I spent picnicking at a place called Slade Point, and I came home so tired that I was in bed before 9 o’clock. About midnight I awoke, and lay for a long time wondering why sleep should forsake me after such a day's ‘toil’

The door, as usual in North Queensland, was wide open, and I could dimly discern the far wall and the curtain at the foot of my bed. Soon I became conscious of a figure standing before me, a figure of a lady or an angel (perhaps both), with the most beautiful face imaginable, a mass of luxuriant golden hair, and light blue eyes overflowing with tears.

She was robed in a kind of furry blue wrapper just low enough at the neck to reveal the risings bosom. Instead of being alarmed, as you might think likely, I gazed rapturously at such transcendent beauty ; until after a short time I noticed a sea of mist or water rising round her.

Higher, higher, and higher it rose, and as it seemed to cover the mouth and nose, the sad blue eyes gave me such an agonised look of pitiful appeal, that I leapt forward as if to save her, and found myself kneeling upright in bed with a river of perspiration running down my forehead, and my heart beating like a battery.

For a few moments I asked myself whether I was dying or going mad ; but before long my fears vanished, and although my heart was still giving audible notice of its action, I almost longed for my beautiful visitor to return. Sleep was out of the question unless a fitful doze towards morning; and at the breakfast table, when, after a strong glass of whisky and soda, I narrated my story, they only joked about it.

That day, Monday, was a public holiday here, and about 4 o'clock two young ladies, aged 19 and 14, were accidentally drowned at Foulden Crossing, three miles above the town of Mackay. I knew neither of them, and therefore soon forgot, to a certain extent, about the sad occurrence.

On the following Saturday, whilst passing a photographer's studio in the main street, I caught a glimpse of a face in the window, which immediately nailed me to the spot, and held me as if spellbound. There, looking straight into my eyes, was the likeness of a young lady in whose face I distinctly and unmistakably recognised almost every feature of my nocturnal visitor.

After gazing at her as I did in my dream for a long time, I interviewed the shopman and asked,
' Please who's that young lady in the middle of the top row?'

' Ah,' he said, when he found it, ' that's poor Bella W—— , one of the girls drowned on the holiday.'

' Thank you,' I replied, in a voice which trembled in spite of myself, and, needless to say, I went home in deep thought.

Now, considering that I had never seen or heard of that unfortunate girl, don't you think that my experience partakes or the nature of the miraculous?
Can you or any of your readers offer an explanation of such a mystery ?

I might add that since the occurrence above narrated I have visited the grave of Miss W ——, and I'm not ashamed to confess that on that occasion I cried the bitterest tears of my life.

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW Sun 22 Dec 1895
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 02, 2022, 01:53:46 AM

I worked at an old winery in the Rutherglen wine region for 18 months. During that time I experienced first-hand, as well as heard a number of stories from others, the real spirits of the place. Dating from the 1800s, the buildings resonate with history to this very day and with a long line of family involvement, plus the development of the region historically, I was always interested if there would be any presence in the vicinity.

The first inkling of anything came from the cleaner her worked there. Rose was contracted to start at around 6:00am and have the cellar door, offices, staff room and public viewing areas spick and span by the time of opening. She usually worked with an assistant but after a while went solo. She was a salt-of-the-earth type individual, who always popped by to see when her invoice was going to be paid and when the next batch of cleaning supplies would be delivered.

One day when she called by my office she complained about how hard the work had become.  I asked her about her assistant and she said that she was now working solo. I guessed that maybe she was a crappy manager but sensing that, she opened up. “I just can’t keep them, due to the winery. It gives them the creeps,” she softly said. After I agreed that it probably would be quite a spooky place early in the morning she went further and admitted that the place was haunted.

Muffled conversations, coughs and even sneezes could be heard around the premises, particularly in the old cask and winery making areas. The sound of crackling fires, equipment being moved and bottles clinking had also been heard. She went through three staff in six months. “It’s just a bunch of old ghosts,” she bemoaned, mentioning that she believed in them and wasn’t really fussed, except for the impact the phenomenon had on her staff.

Once I confided in her that I was interested in the supernatural, Rose went further. On her own, she would often try and listen to the voices but they always just out of proper audible range. She even thought that some of it may have been in Chinese which connected to the presence of oriental labour utilized in the region during the 1920s.

“I got used to it as it just reminded me of how old this place really is!” she cackled.

Personally, the only weird noise in the winery that I ever heard was in broad daylight one Saturday afternoon when I was doing some month-end overtime. I was sure I heard the creaking of the old basket press in motion but on investigation, there was no one there. It sort of confirmed what Rose had been telling me. After being away for 20 years, this was just the beginning of what triggered by re-ignited interest in high strangeness in Australia.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 02, 2022, 02:00:44 AM

Nestled in the mountains between Myrtleford and Mt. Beauty is a locality known as Kancoona.
The 2006 census states that the area had a population of 210 and it is known for a winery, a modern day castle and a water factory. The latter was a company called Mountain H2o. The company moved from Kancoona to a more modern and larger factory in 2009 in Albury, New South Wales. It is now known as Asahi Beverages. Natural spring water is still drawn from the Kancoona site daily and trucked into Albury for bottling. The original house that was the administration block, and the factory, still stand but since the relocation, both have slowly become derelict.

A senior manager at the Albury factory was in need of temporary accommodation whilst his new house was being built and so to help him out, as well as maintaining the grounds of the still active water source, the company allowed he and his wife to move into the old house for almost 6 months, it seemed like a perfect arrangement.

Standing out at the truck-driver’s shelter one afternoon a few months back, I overheard two of the water tanker drivers talking about “the ghost”.  I asked them what they were talking about and they recounted the rumours of a female apparition that had been seen around the filling pumps and house. “We try not to get a fill out there near 5 o’clock,” one loud lad exclaimed. “It’s just a bit too freaky”. Then the other driver stated that one of the other tanker drivers actually had a photo of the apparition taken on his mobile phone.

I was surprised at this information as there were no reports of anything paranormal being experienced at Kancoona since it was first purchased by the company in 2001. Knowing that the manager who had moved in there had done a lot of work to get the house and grounds back in order, next time I bumped into him I asked him about his new digs. He was pleased with his temporary accommodation and then I jokingly asked him,
“How are the ghosts?”

His eyes grew large and his face went very serious. He whispered to me, as if he readily accepted that I knew about strange manifestations there, that they were pissing him off. After a hard morning in the garden on a recent Sunday, he had retired to the house for an afternoon nap when he was dragged off his bed by the leg, by an unknown force. Strange bangs and knocks had also been heard. He didn’t elaborate anymore and further questioning a few days later were brushed off, although he did say his wife was a bit scared.

That’s about it. I have heard nothing further about similar goings on at Kancoona and have been unable to find the truck driver with the photo. Either way, the Kancoona water facility is a remote backdrop in the Victorian vista. The slightly Harry Potter-esque design of the old house adds a particular atmosphere to the place and maybe a night needs to be spent there to really find out what is happening.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 02, 2022, 02:07:13 AM

The Sydney Cricket Ground is mostly quiet tonight as the crowds have gone and Indians flock to the curry houses around the world to celebrate their male cricketers first ever series win on Australian soil. The 4th Test at the SCG ended today in a final day wash-out handing the visitors a historic 2-1 win, their first in 71 years since they first played Tests here. But there maybe one part of the arena that could be active this evening, as it supposedly is many nights, and that’s the 122-year-old Ladies’ Pavilion.

One of the most picturesque and best spots to watch cricket at the SCG was built to accommodate the ladies who couldn’t get into an overflowing members stand in 1896. It was designed by a Sydney architect John Kirkpatrick with tearooms on each of its three floors. Here the ladies whose husbands were enjoying the match in the
adjoining Members stand could relax and socialize and maybe watch some play. 

Tours of the SCG grounds and stands are available and the Heritage Council of New South Wales mentions the chance to meet “the resident” ghost and another website promoting tours of the ground talk about “its friendly ghosts”. As it transpires, they are talking about supernatural activity that is reputed to occur in the Ladies Pavilion. A Daily Telegraph article in October 2016 for Halloween mentions the following:

“As darkness falls over the Sydney Cricket Ground, it is said you can see an old woman in a veil, forever watching for her son. The story goes that her cricket-loving son died in WWII, and the widow would religiously attend the SCG, reminded of him by the young men out in the field. After her death, her ghost is said to have remained in the Ladies Pavilion.”

The rest of the article talks about the ghost tour but what is intriguing is that no NSW cricketer of note died during WWII. It is more likely that the spirit is related to a lost son of the first war. But who was it and who is the spectre that manifests itself through poltergeist activities?

A January 2018 interview with SCG Heritage Trust staff about the history of the Ladies’ Pavilion mentioned various spooky occurrences. One junior staffer just repeated that unusual stories and things happened regularly, but then his manager elaborated a lot more:

“The Sydney Cricket Ground is monitored 24 hours a day by our security guards, and often they’ll tell stories of switching off the lights and leaving the doors locked down here at the ladies pavilion only to come back some hours later with the doors open and the lights back on.”

He went on to say that some new employees have handed in their keys and walked off site after only one day’s work. Also some long-serving security guards have a tradition of, when they arrive at work for the night shift, they say hello and introduce themselves to the spirits that may be around. That apparently seems to quell any unsettling activity.

So, who might be around?

The building was opened by Viscountess Lady Hampton, the great-great-grandmother of Duchess of York Sarah Ferguson. The pavilion has long been a favourite of the royal family but Lady Hampton just visited once. After WWI, as first-class cricket re-started after a six year break, it appears that a number of women returned to the stand to socialize, reminisce and grieve. Three NSW fits-class cricketers died during the war – Gother Clarke, Norman Callaway and Albert “Tibby” Cotter. The latter was the most well known as he played 21 Tests between 1904 and 1912 and took 89 wickets with his Mitch Johnson-like sling action.

Cotter was killed in action on 31 October 1917 and his brother John also died on the front four weeks earlier. His mother Margaret would seem a prime candidate for a grieving spirit. But there is one other possible candidate  … that of Emily Callaway. Her son Norman was a diminutive batsman born in Hay, 720 kilometres west of Sydney. He was an extremely promising up-and-coming batsman and made his first-class debut against Queensland in February 1915, the last major Australian cricket match before the war impact.

Callaway batted for four hours and made 207. He was the first of only three Australians to score a double century on first-class debut. His mother Emily was watching. This was an amazing effort that until this day is revered in Hay, and pure statistical terms, Callaway has holds the highest first-class batting average to this very day, even though he played only one match.  Soon after, Norman went to war and was reported missing-in-action in May 1917. His body has never been found.

My guess for the spirit of the Ladies’ Pavilion is Margaret Cotter. Her son played matches there a lot and the family lived in Sydney. The loss of two sons in the war, plus another two in railway accidents in Australia in the 1920s must have completely devastated her. Going to the cricket as the other of a well-known departed cricketer probably offered her some condolences and it appears that her grieving spirit decided to stay there forever to remember her famous son.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 02, 2022, 02:24:48 AM

Tucked away in the hills south-east of Omeo is a tiny forgotten village that until quite recently, still had one inhabitant, even though the rest of the former gold mining settlement had become a ghost town. These days, the former village of Brookville is known as the Strobridge Huts, a nickname used basically by hikers and 4WD enthusiasts, and those wishing to preserve what is left of the place. But according to some of those who come curiously to explore, Brookville’s last inhabitant may still be around, protecting her property from intruders.

The village was a thriving place on the back of the gold that was discovered there in 1868. The region was dotted with small gold-mining communities with the main town being Cassilis. Brookville is situated about 33 kilometres from Omeo, or nine west of Swifts Creek. At its peak around 600 people lived there in the 1890s, with two pubs and a post office.

The main mine found just 3 three kilometres away in a valley was called the Highland Chief. It employed some 60 men and one of them was John Strobridge. He built his first abode in 1895 and as he prospered and he married a girl named Ella Lasich. His 2nd daughter Lucy was born in 1919, following his 1st Maude. A son named Billy followed soon after.  Another sturdier home was built in the early 1920s, right next door to the original to provide more space.

With the money John had earned, Lucy went school in Melbourne but by the time she came back, Billy was sick with polio. He was transported to a polio clinic in Carlton in 1936 and died soon after. Then John passed away in 1941 which coincided with the decline of the village during the war years. Gold had started to dry up some two decades before. Maude had moved away after getting married and now it was just Ella and Lucy living in the two abodes, which were really just large one-room huts.

The two women had a spartan lifestyle, living off the land and carting supplies from Swifts Creek on a weekly basis in an old pram. They would cut and collect firewood for warmth on a makeshift wheelbarrow. Ella lived until 1972 and after she died, it was just Lucy and she wasn’t going anywhere. She had started to show reclusive tendencies after her brother Billy, who she adored, was taken away and now, she basically didn’t talk at all.

Lucy continued living with no electricity and survived through the altruism of locals who would drop off supplies, check up on her and sometimes organize working bees to clean up the hut’s surrounds and do repairs. In 2001 a local passerby noticed her looking sick and limping. Lucy had sustained a foot injury that had become infected and she was taken to Omeo hospital and passed away soon after.

Lucy didn’t like strangers and she made elaborate plans to scare unknown visitors off. These included animal calls, particularly wild dogs, usually delivered after she had left her huts and run into the bush. If cornered, she would just not open the door. These tendencies became legendary amongst outdoor campers and 4WD clubs in the 1980s and 90s, not to mention a few locals, and she was dubbed ‘Mad Lucy’ by some. After she died, the Strobridge Huts, as they became known, were visited even more, and it was from then on we have accounts of spooky happenings and weird feelings.

In 2003, bushfires savaged he region and fire-fighters reported seeing a women dressed in rags berating the flames. This led to the legend that Lucy’s spirit had a hand in repelling the fires to protect Brookville. One off-road driving group who visited the huts in 2012 all experienced a “really, really creepy vibe” and everyone wanted to leave the place ASAP. Other curious people have reported seeing fleeting glimpses of a female dashing through the bushes and knocking coming from the hut. An acquaintance of mine who stayed in the front hut in 2009 (the rear hut is now considered too dangerous to enter due to disrepair) one night in the middle of summer mentioned its unnatural coldness, and a feeling of being prodded in the middle of night a few times by something like a foot.

Lucy Strobridge was very protective of her property and privacy. She was connected to the area for the whole of her 81 years and particularly after the death of her beloved brother Billy, became more attached to the huts and her heritage than ever. A brief biography called “The Maid of the Mountains” was released in 2003 (Bob Bates) about this remarkable woman. It appears that Lucy is still haunting the Brookville area near the corner of Baldhead Road and Charlotte Spurt Track. Pay a visit if you get the chance. Unlike when she was alive, she may actual try to make contact.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 02, 2022, 02:32:23 AM

This was the oldest building I had ever worked in Australia. The winery was constructed in the 1860s and apart from the interior winemaking and storage areas, there were a number of small attached rooms added on out the back. These were the offices where we worked in. There were six all up in a reverse L-shape, serving the admin, IT/server room, and then business, HR, production and sales/marketing managers. I started off in the tiny HR office and ended up in the business manager’s expansive room.

After eventful first month which saw my manager and I clash regularly, he was terminated for whatever reason. I stayed in my office and his lay dormant. It wasn’t long after that when weird things started to happen in my office. The first related to the maintenance man Larry who would often come in as the keys that were used for the entire site were in a locked box on the wall. Only he and the CEO had access to these. Larry kept complaining that someone was moving the keys around from their allocated hanging spots.

Then one autumn morning, I opened my locked office to see an amazing site. Six of my lever arch folders had been delicately balanced one on top of each other on my desk, up to some 1.5 metres high! I quickly took them all down and thought what the hell …?! To my knowledge only Larry had access to my office and why would he do a thing like that?

My opinion as to what may be happening changed dramatically a couple of weeks later when I entered my office to see my swivel chair whirling around by itself. The chair thing happened twice. I asked my colleagues in the old lunchroom out the back one day if the winery was haunted. I already thought something was strange after hearing stories from the old cleaner about ghostly voices. My workmates said little and a couple laughed, but afterwards Larry came into my office and told me that he had not only seen my chair spinning himself, but also that when he opened the key registry box that the keys were jingling by themselves, like there was an earthquake.

Soon after that I moved into the vacant business manager’s office. This was a larger room with lots of old vintage bottles of wine on a big shelf against the far wall, more filing cabinets and seemingly more air. I actually liked this room although it always seemed to musky and damp and rather humid. Over the last 9 months that I worked at the winery, nothing much happened in this space, although plenty occurred outside.

The server room was located in a small room next to my office. The gap in between was bricked although a crescent façade of bricks below the roof suggested that there was once a door there. Around 6:00pm in mid-July one evening, after working back, I finally locked up and began the longish walkalong the front of the offices and then a hairpin turn to walk along a gravel driveway along the main part of the building that led to the main carpark at the front where my vehicle was.

Two things happened that greatly disturbed me.

Firstly, and most memorable occurred just after I had locked my office door. There was a weak light outside that illuminated the bricked walkway to the rear and little else. As I turned to start my walk to the car, a cold breeze sort of passed me and as I turned, I saw a glowing figure walk through the wall below brick crescent. It was hard to describe but in height, it had a human shape but I could not make out any clothes or features.

Next, carrying my files and bag, I briskly started the walk along the gravel driveway in pitch darkness. I usually would have stopped to adjust my eyes to the night before continuing but after what I’d just seen, I was keen to get to my car and drive off as soon as possible.

Halfway along the driveway I dropped a file. My eyes had slowly adapted to the darkness. I stopped to pick it up but as I did so, I heard the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel behind me, back from where I had just come. I could see the shed at the other end of the driveway but could see nobody. Twice I briefly stopped,and again could hear the footsteps, and they were getting closer. This time I ran the last 50-metres to my car, dropping a file along the way. I left it there, figuring I’d pick it up next morning. I jumped in my car and headed home with my spider senses tingling.

As I had some deadlines to meet next day, I returned to the winery early next morning, with obvious caution, wide-eyed and looking around as I walked the gravel driveway. After plonking everything on my office desk and switching on my PC, I went back to look for the dropped file which I hadn’t seen on the driveway. I retraced my steps to around the spot where I thought it should have been. Nothing. I looked around and then saw some papers lying underneath a largish elm tree. I walked up there and found my file wedged in one of the lower forks. This was perplexing as I was the first person to arrive that day and the winemaker who lived on site was away on business.

It was very perplexing but I had a mountain of work to do, which continued onto the next day which was a Friday. At the end of the week the staff would habitually have some beer or wine out the back shed, overlooking the rolling fields that ran alongside the might Murray River. I took a gulp of beer and told Larry about the spooky things that had happened this week. Having experienced some weird stuff himself, he suddenly rather confidently exclaimed, “I think the old boss is angry with you!” A please explain resulted in the following story.

The founder of the winery and long-time owner apparently used to live in the room that was now my office and work in the smaller room where my chair used to spin. He passed away in the early 1900s and legend has it that either he or one of his sons who later ran the winery was buried under the large oak tree out the front. As a side note, the founder’s grave is located in the nearby Wahgunyah cemetery. I didn’t tell Larry about the file stuck in the tree but contemplating a possible spooky connection to the legend of who may or may not be buried under the tree was fascinating.

I experienced no more highly strange goings on myself during the remainder of my time at the winery, although many others, including customers and visitors did. They’ll have to wait for another time. For now, the unexpected encounter on that cold winter’s evening will stay with me forever. Was it the original boss who had become irritated with my presence? Who knows, but if it was, I had definitely become more than just a little irritated and unsettled by his.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 05, 2022, 01:31:37 AM

THE story begins with an ageing and eccentric couple named Bonnor, who built a four-roomed weatherboard cottage and kitchen on the hill behind the Roma hospital at a point just inside the boundary fence of the farthest out paddock of Mr. James Lalor's big property. There is little that can be learnt of Bonnor except that he was a carpenter. He had followed this and other bush occupations and had probably done a considerable amount of work for the Lalor family, for they appear willingly to have allowed him to erect his cottage on their property.

It is with Bonnor's wife that the story is principally concerned. She attracted the attention of all. Even in the seventies when strangely at tired characters were more frequently encountered in the bush than today, she was a conspicuous figure.

Contemporaries have left on record that she was never dressed otherwise than in a grey frock of a design and texture belonging to a day much earlier than the seventies. She wore over this a grey three-cornered shawl pulled tightly about her shoulders. Another peculiarity was that she would neither greet nor return the salutations of those she met in her trips to and from the town. Her habitual air was strangely abstract. Beyond these characteristics there was nothing that suggested the part she was to play in the experience and legend of the district.

The Bonnors lived in the house on the hill for years. Without explanation they suddenly disappeared, and the subsequent investigation failed to provide a hint of their whereabouts or a clue as to either the manner of their leaving Roma or their intended destination. The house on the hill stood deserted for some time, and not even the most imaginative or nervy resident of Roma reported anything untoward about it. No noise save that of the wind in the trees that grew about the house or the flap of a loose shingle broke the stillness of the night that wrapped the Bonnors home.

Mention was made later of a grey cat which either had been abandoned by the Bonnors or had wandered to the house on the hill and found an abiding place beneath the flooring. Not even the most credulous, however, were able seriously to suggest that this member of the cat family, which has always been such a recognised feature of witchcraft and grisly legend, was anything more significant than a domestic cat gone shy and wild.

In the course of time the cottage on Gubberamunda was occupied by a family named Johnson, the head of which was a saddler with a business in Roma. When telling of what happened in the cottage, Johnson, his wife, and their surviving children stated that they were never happy or comfortable during the time they lived there.

There was something creepy and unnerving about the cottage on dark nights, a strange feeling that someone or something lurked, always watching, but never disclosed as a physical presence until the unfortunate Tilly Johnson told of the visitation in the night. Until that moment the only material experience of the Johnson family in the house on the hill was strangely each member of the family had in turn. It was always an individual experience, as it was afterwards recounted.

Sometimes when all the others were asleep one of the Johnsons would awaken to hear a tank tap dripping. In ordinary circumstances, of course, in a country where water is precious, anyone hearing a tap dripping in the lonely night hours would not as sociate it with a ghostly presence. He or she would be concerned with the one thought of the necessity of conserving the water supply by stopping such prodigal waste. Yet when on different nights various members of the Johnson family got out of bed after having heard the tap dripping they never found the tap otherwise than most securely turned off and not giving forth even an infinitesimal drop of water.

Then Tilly, the eldest girl, became ill. Whether she had been injured is not disclosed, but we are told that whatever she suffered made it necessary for her to be bandaged, and that the bandages were declared by the medical man who treated her to be necessary for her safety. One morning she awoke in a state of considerable excitement, declaring that during the night she had been visited by a little woman.

Her visitor was dressed in an old fashioned grey frock with a grey shawl around her shoulders. She stood at the foot of Tilly's bed and spoke to her in a soft, persuasive voice. The Little Old Woman in Grey urged Tilly to remove her bandages, assuring her that only in following such a course could she recover. "You will get well! You will get well, Tilly!" is what the girl told her family her visitor exclaimed. Tilly had followed her advice— a fact which her family learnt with apprehension. Their fears were so well grounded that Tilly died that very day.

Despite Tilly's death, the apparition, and the dripping taps, the Johnson family continued to occupy the cottage. There must have been a house shortage in the Roma district in the seventies. Since the course of true love requires more than ghostly legend to deter it, to the house came a young Roma chemist, courting the eldest Johnson girl. One moonlight night he was wending a rapturous way homeward from the house on the hill when he felt impelled to turn.

There standing in the moonlight, was the grey figure of a woman regarding him with hair-raising fixity from burning eyes. We are assured from the scrappy records in the Oxley Library that the young apothecary stood not upon the order of his going. His going, indeed, was so precipitate that he ran into a barbed wire fence, which served only to accelerate his pace. The young apothecary reached the Roma Hospital, as one writer has prettily phrased it, "faster than any of his prescriptions had ever done!" Having arrived there, he swooned, which was an appropriate touch in the seventies.

The Johnson family had stood for the apparition, for the ghostly unseen presences and the dripping dripless taps, and the death of a member of the family. This unpardonable intrusion on the marriageable prospects of its daughters was too much. The Johnsons left the house on the hill. Again it stood empty while the grey cat returned to its lair under the floor boards, and some more shingles flapped, and the wind sighed in the trees that grew wild about it, and, for sure, an owl hooted in the midnight hour.

Our next reference to the Ghost of Gubberamunda comes from the late Ashton Murphy who has left for posterity a manuscript on the subject in the Oxley Library. He was personally acquainted with the family which next occupied it. The house, he says, was connected with the kitchen by a passage of foot boards, and on dark, windy nights none of the girls would go into the kitchen. If the evening meal was late the dishes stayed on the dining table in the house itself until daylight hours.

On one occasion it was discovered that a treacle tart had been left in the kitchen. One of the boys offered to penetrate the darkness and fetch it. A few seconds later there was the clatter of stampeding feet on the footboards of the passage. The door of the dining room was flung open and the lad arrived on all fours on the dining room floor, with his face embedded in the treacle tart. He had felt a ghostly touch in the darkened kitchen just after he picked up the tart.

In the end the house on the hill was dismantled, removed to Roma, and re-erected, and so far as this dwelling was concerned it ceased to be the abiding place of the Little Old Woman in Grey.

Apparently she continued to inhabit the hill. Two swagmen camped there one night. They knew nothing of the ghostly associations of the place. One of them awoke to find that someone had pulled down his blankets. He looked up to see the figure of a woman dressed in grey moving away. He called his mate, and they stood looking from the top of the hill into clear moonlight. No figure could be discerned. The second swagman was most annoyed with his mate for disturbing him, but the next night his turn came and the ghostly woman chilled his blood by dragging him from slumber.

At daybreak the swagmen rolled up their swags and made haste to Roma. Here among the listeners to their story were a number of persons who knew of the former appearance of the Little Old Woman in Grey and Judge Paul of the Supreme Court on circuit. The Judge was so struck by the continuity of reported experience that he investigated the whole subject and published his findings in a bright little Brisbane paper of long ago, the Figaro. Judge Paul confessed that he could neither prove nor disprove the materialisations of the ghost of the Little Old Woman in Grey on the hill on Gubberamunda.

Published by Sunday Mail Brisbane, Qld Sun 5 Jan 1941
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 05, 2022, 01:34:27 AM

I’ve never lived in a haunted house, but my mother did as a teen. Other houses on her street had strange things going on too. A few homes away from her lived a man and his family.

One night, one of his daughters went to bed with a bad headache. The next day, she was dead, she’d passed away from an aneurysm. After the funeral, the family went away to get their minds off the tragedy, and the father asked my uncle – my mom’s brother – to check on their pets.

My mom and dad (they were dating then) went with my uncle; my mother had heard there was a grand piano and she wanted to play it, and my dad was studying to be a veterinarian. After entering the house, my uncle and my father headed to the basement to see the animals, and my mother went to the piano on the ground floor. She was playing it when she felt something brush her ankles.

She thought a cat must have left the basement and walked past her. She kept playing, and she felt it again. She looked under the piano and saw nothing. When she started again, she felt hands clasp her legs and grab them tightly.

She dashed to the basement door, called my uncle and father, and waited for them. When they all walked outside, my uncle could tell my mom was rattled and asked what was wrong. She told him what had happened, and he turned white.

He told her the daughter who died used to play a game with her father. When he’d play the piano, she’d crawl underneath, grab his ankles, and push his feet up and down on the pedals.


The ambulance company that I used to work for had a “haunted” ambulance: rig 12. A lot of EMTs had stories about it, but I never put much stock in paranormal stuff. That is, until I had my own experience with rig 12. My partner and I were working in a rural community at 3 a.m., and it was pitch-dark and completely quiet. We were both dozing; I was in the driver’s seat, and she was in the passenger seat.

I woke up to a muffled voice, and I thought my partner was talking. I told her I was trying to sleep and closed my eyes. I distinctly heard a male voice say, “Oh my God, am I dying?” followed by a few seconds of heavy breathing.

My partner and I sat up straight and looked back into the patient compartment, where it sounded like the voice had come from. Things were quiet for a couple seconds; then we heard the click of an oxygen-bottle regulator and a hiss, as if it was leaking. I turned on the lights, and we ran out of the rig. I thought a transient might have climbed in while we were asleep, so we opened the rear doors. No one was there. I checked the oxygen bottles; neither was opened. We didn’t sleep much after that.


“I once moved into an unusually large, incredibly old, three-storey terrace in Newcastle. There was only one other occupant on the top floor, myself in the middle, and the lower level was uninhabited and sat in a blanket of dust. Both myself and my housemate worked a lot, so seldom saw each other, but pretty early on, I started to feel like I had other company. 

I would hear constant footsteps below me, which then escalated to sounds of someone running up and down the hall. During the middle of the night, I would hear sprinting up and down the stairs which were next to my room. Some nights, it became so loud, I would jump out of bed, sure there was a kid loose in the house playing a trick. 

I would get up and walk around, text my housemate to see if she was home, but she would reply and say that she wasn’t. I started to even investigate the downstairs area, but the dust was completely unmarked. 

About three weeks in, I started seeing a guy who would occasionally stay at my house. One night as we were sleeping, he bolted awake screaming, after hearing similar sounds. He jumped up and shone his phone light down the stairs, but no one was there. It was a terrifying reminder that I wasn’t going crazy, but it was also one of the last times he would stay over. 

After three months of what felt like sleepless nights, I saw my housemate out at a bar and confronted her about my issues. I thought she would look at me like I was stupid, but instead, she said ‘yeah … so I didn’t want to tell you because I really needed to pay the rent, but the house is haunted, and your room is supposedly the worst’. Needless to say, I moved out a fortnight later.”
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 05, 2022, 01:37:21 AM

A few years ago, I moved into a one-bedroom apartment in Melbourne, Australia; it was my first time living on my own. The apartment block had been built in the 1930s. I’d been there for a few months when I came home from work one day and went into the bathroom.

I saw something strange: The wooden board covering a hole in the ceiling that led to a small attic space lay broken in two pieces on the ground. I examined the broken pieces. The board was an inch thick, and it would have taken a Bruce Lee to break it.

I thought the landlord had sent someone to work on the attic. I was frozen stiff with fear. I thought someone is up there for sure. I emailed pictures to the landlord asking if anyone had been there.
Her reply read, “Please call me as soon as you are able to.” I called, and she explained that her last two tenants had said the same thing happened. She promised to replace the board, and she did.

A month later, I woke up one night around 4 a.m. I had so many goose bumps, it felt like someone was rubbing his or her hands on me. Everything was silent, but then I heard this sound coming from above my bed. It was a dragging sound, like someone pulling a sack of potatoes. I was frozen stiff with fear. I thought someone is up there for sure. There is no way an animal could make that sound.

After five minutes, I managed to work up the courage to turn on the light and walk to the bathroom. I was armed with a cricket bat. When I looked, I saw that the new board covering the hole was broken in two! I felt sick. The dragging sound had stopped. But I heard something else, whispering.

The sound was clear and coming from the attic. It sounded like children’s voices, and I could hear one sentence repeated over and over: “It’s your turn … It’s your turn …” I switched on every light in the apartment to make things feel normal. It was 5 a.m. and dark outside. I watched TV to try to unwind. Then a fuse blew. My pet budgie, Dexter, whom I kept in the kitchen, usually never made a sound at night, but he started squawking like he was being strangled. I’d never heard him make those sorts of noises – he was screaming.

I grabbed my car keys, ran out, sat in my car, and waited there until the sun came up. When I saw people walking their dogs, this comforted me enough to go back in. The front door was open, but I thought I hadn’t closed it when I’d run out. I went to the kitchen to check on Dexter, and he wasn’t in his cage – I felt sick again.

All my windows were closed, so I looked everywhere inside. When I walked to the bathroom, I heard splashing. Dexter was half drowned in the toilet! I took him out, washed him, and dried him, I was so confused.

At 8 a.m., I called the landlord and gave her a watered-down version of the night. “Oh, wow, you heard the whispering too!” she said. I stayed in that apartment for another 18 months. I heard the whispering on a few occasions, and twice the board covering the hole in the ceiling moved. Although I live elsewhere, the landlord recently called. She said that her new tenants had begged to speak with me about some of the stuff that’s been going on there.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 05, 2022, 01:42:03 AM

I have often been asked if I ever saw a ghost, and have always been obliged to answer that I never did, although I have been given every facility for interviews with uncanny folk. I never saw anything that I could not account for in a natural way, but when it come to hearing a ghost, I can truly say that I have had a peculiar and not altogether agreeable experience.

Some incredulous person may ask, here, how I know the sound I heard was made by a ghost, I can only say that the same psychic force that conveyed the warning sound to my bodily senses compelled me to accept it from the supernatural world. I am sure in my own mind that a third, recurrence of that unholy noise would have seriously injured me in some way. I have passed through perils by fire and flood, but never felt myself in such terrible danger as I did when that Thing of sound enveloped me with its grimace of death.

It came to me when I was happy and contented in mind, and with no thought of the supernatural hanging over me, and at an hour when the world was flooded in sunshine, near the close of a balmy summer day.

I was visiting a cousin between whom and myself existed a strong bond of liking, a natural regard that made us more than relations -dear friends- and it was while I was at her house that something unusual and unaccountable occurred to me.

I was writing a letter, sitting at a desk which had belonged to my aunt, now deceased. She, good woman, had scribbled a little for fame, and this desk of hers was looked upon as a sacred relic in the family.

"You can write your letter on mother's desk," said my cousin Pauline; "but," she added, " that is a privilege we would not give to everyone. Perhaps you will feel some inspiration there; I always do."

Now, I had never liked my aunt, good woman though she was, principally, I think, because she did not like me, but my memory of her was neither pleasing nor inspiring. I had looked upon her as narrow and self-righteous. However, I was quite willing to sit at the rosewood desk with its pretty entourage of writing materials, it’s bronze ornaments, and crystal paper weight, from which the composed features of Aunt Maria looked forth with photographed distinctness.

I had my letter half finished, and paused to look out on the western sunset through the bay window in front of me, when, bang! went something like an explosion in the desk, a remarkable sound. I jumped to my feet in alarm, and looked at my cousin, who sat near me reading composedly.

“ Did you hear that?" I asked in trembling tones.

"I did not hear anything," she answered quietly; "you are nervous, Myra."

"But surely you heard that loud noise in the desk?"

"There is nothing to make a noise there," she said, and going to the desk she threw open the cover and showed me the inside. No, there was nothing, there. I recovered myself and presently resumed my writing, thinking I had moved the desk in some way to cause the strange sound I heard. I began relating the incident in my letter and was solely interested in telling it, when again there came a loud "bang" from the inside of the desk, exactly under the cover. It was so loud and resounding that I was sure Pauline must have heard it.

This time I did not jump up, but moved my chair back quite suddenly.
" What is it now ? asked my cousin.

"Did you not hear it then?”

" Hear what, may I ask ?"

" A loud noise like a report in the desk. You must of have heard it.”

"I wish you would not be sensational, Myra," answered my cousin. " That desk is very sacred to me. My mother died sitting there, and when we found her she lay with her head on the desk as if asleep. She sat in that very chair."

Then I knew as well as if I had seen her with my bodily eyes that by some mysterious agency my aunt had come back from the dread unknown to signify her displeasure at my sitting in her place. And I took good care that she was never troubled again. Not for worlds would I have sat at the desk during the brief time of my shortened stay.

I have been asked many times what the noise resembled. I can only answer that it was like nothing I had ever heard before, but if I could imagine the sound of a blow struck by a dead hand, I would compare it to that. It made every nerve conscious of its presence when it gave that ghostly warning.

Published by Alexandra and Yea Standard, Gobur, Thornton and Acheron Express Vic
 Fri 12 Aug 1892
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 10, 2022, 12:54:04 AM

When we bought the old house, about 20 years ago, it was a shambles and had been abandoned for some time. There was hardly any furniture and it was on two levels. One night soon after we had moved in my husband had a friend over and they were downstairs talking late in the evening. I had been working and was tired so went to the attic bedroom to get away from the noise. It was about 2am and I was trying to get to sleep when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs but the footsteps kept coming for what seemed a very long time, I assumed it was my husband trying to get me to join them downstairs.

I turned the light on and waited and then the bed started to shake really violently. I was knocking my head against the wall and my feet were hitting the bed end. It shook for about a minute and I was truly terrified. I thought I might have been having a fit. I didn’t know what it was but I had the feeling it was a woman shaking the bed, a female presence, I also thought it might happen again, and it did!

This time I hung on to the edge of the bed but it still shook violently – I kept trying to work out what it was – possibly the hot water system? When my husband inspected the bed he found that all the screws had become loose from the shaking. But it wasn’t anywhere near the pipes. It had to be a ghost.

Anyway, about a week later (from the first shaking) another weird thing happened. We have a corner table in the living room and on it there’s a flat bowl with pot-pouri. I had gone to work one day at the hospital and when I came home the plate was smashed in the very centre of the room. It could not have been the cat as he was locked outside. What made it strange is that the plate was in the very centre of the room and had obviously been lifted into the air and dropped. But by what?

The house is pre 1868 and was once a hostel for shell-shocked soldiers and, prior to that, the house of the district magistrate. Anyway, eventually we had a sister at the hospital who knew a priest in Newcastle who visited the house, blessed it and we haven’t had anything strange happen since.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 10, 2022, 12:56:53 AM

My first story involves incidents that occurred when I was in my early teens and living in my grandparents home in Campsie. This was in the early to mid 60s. My grandfather died in front bedroom of the house in 1957.

The house was from an era where there were no indoor toilets. Our toilet was approximately 15-20 metres from the back door of the house. The house had a number of those light switches that were operated by pulling a cord. These cords had a plastic bead at the end for weight and there was such a cord just inside the back door.
My brothers, sister and I often experienced something strange when we were in the toilet.  Although we knew the house was empty and the back door secured, we could often hear the cord being rattled against the architrave – the same sound that occurred whenever we turned the lights on or off. When we returned to the house the sound would stop and there was no breeze present that could have caused such an event.

Other strange occurrences involved the sudden opening of a door leading from the hallway to the lounge room where we would be sitting watching television and the sudden opening of a holland blind. The blind would just fly up all of a sudden for no reason and without any obvious fault in the mechanism. None of these events ever caused us any real concern as we just put it down to our grandfather letting us know his spirit was present.

A more recent experience occurred in our present home in Beverley Park. About 10 or so years ago, my wife or I would feel a presence in our bedroom – usually very late at night when we had been asleep for some time. The presence would cause one of us to wake and for a brief moment we could see the image of a young girl in a nightdress standing at our bedroom door. As soon as we opened our eyes fully, the image would disappear. At first we thought it was our younger daughter who was about 5 years old at the time but then we realised it was some form of spirit. The young girl never moved or made any sound. She just stood there. We have no idea who she was or why she appeared and we haven’t seen the image for some years now
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 10, 2022, 01:00:06 AM

My colleague Alan and I were having a beer at the pub in December last year. The cricket was on in the background, Christmas was approaching and it had been a challenging, yet successful year for both of us. Conversations moved around and when I somehow mentioned about a web page and its content, he stopped talking, took a massive swig of Great Northern beer and said, “I believe in ghosts mate. Our house used to be haunted.”

Alan and his wife Barbara live in central Thurgoona, not far from the shopping plaza that is the central focus of this now sprawling town north of downtown Albury. They moved into their early 1990s built brick veneer house back in 2004. With a steady job and two young kids, the these days mid-40s Alan was now living the family dream as a homeowner with a supervisor’s job at a local manufacturing company. With a busy work, sporting and social life, Alan wasn’t always around but he loved his ‘castle’ and Barbara was happy to let him do his stuff and bring home the bacon. Then around 2008, things started to go weird.

At various times of the day and night, Alan would experience the feeling that he was being watched. Whether he was in the kitchen, watching TV or in the bathroom, he often caught a glimpse of “a shadowy something” out of the corner of his eye. He put it down to tiredness at first, but the annoying phenomenon continued. He had his eyes tested and mentioned the problem to the optometrist. No, there was not really such a condition it seemed. Alan decided to take a break from some activities and relax more at home as he was sure the issue was stress-related of sorts.

Hanging out at home more, where he finally made an effort to landscape his front and back gardens was great but it didn’t solved the problem at all. It made things worse as Alan not only continued to see “the shadow”, but also noticed other odd things. His backyard shed that he thought was locked was always found open, garden tools were moved to parts of the garden that they shouldn’t have been and occasional strange male sighs were heard in the house.

Alan’s growing irritation finally came to a head when Barbara confronted him over dinner one night, after the children were in bed. “Darling, there’s something strange going on in our house!” she said with a slightly scared look. She proceeded to tell Alan almost everything he already knew and had also experienced over the past nine months. Barbara had even seen a figure of an elderly man in the kitchen one night it transpired. Noticing what she thought was Alan’s stress at his new job, and he did in fact have quite a bit, she had decided to keep quiet about the strangeness she had seen.

A friend of Alan’s at work had a sister who was a medium. Alan had always thought, “Yeah, whatever” when the topic of the sister’s work, had come up, but now he was keen to get some advice. Beth, the medium, was soon invited to the house and did a thorough walk around.

On her second visit she was adamant she’d made contact with the house’s original owner and ascertained that he was called ‘Reg’ and he wasn’t happy about leaving his house to somebody else. Although Alan and Barbara never checked, Beth suggested that Reg had died suddenly, either in the house or elsewhere. She advised the disturbed couple what to do next.

Barbara made a nice dinner for three of roast, vegetables and mash potato. She and Alan dressed up. They talked with each and to Reg as if he was there. They heard or saw nothing during the whole charade, and at the end, stood up and said together something like, “Reg, we love your house and will look after it. Please kindly leave us and seek peace on the other side where you belong. Thank you.” And that was that. Reg was never felt or seen again and life returned to normal. Alan and Barbara still live in the same house today.   

This tale is of a simple haunting. It gives you an idea of what can happen to everyday people in this day and age. Alan still works with me closely. I see him every day. I like to joke and use idioms in my conversation and every once in a while I will use the word “ghost” or something similar in my words and he’ll flash an eye at me. I know his family secret, and now so do you, but the question moreso is, do you have a similar simple ghost story in your past. I bet many of you do.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 19, 2022, 12:36:44 AM
The following first hand accounts of the supernatural are courtesy of Robb Tilley.
Robb prepared the paper and participated in these case studies.


I had recently been elected the public officer of the Australian Institute of Parapsychological Research Inc. (A.I.P.R.) and because our organisation promotes research and public education into psychic phenomena I responded to a letter seeking help for a family beset with hauntings.

I had no idea of what to do to be of any help, our then President, Dr Michael Hough gave me some contacts and also mentioned that exorcisms were not very effective.

Marilyn Newman agreed to meet me at the haunted house with her trance control Harry. Marilyn is a trance medium who developed her skill in spiritualist circles. She asked to be shown through every room in the house and then accurately described the apparitions the family had experienced seeing. Marilyn described their appearance, clothing, body posture. The mother and daughter (aged 17) confirmed these details.

The home had been owned by an elderly couple of Slavic origin who had a huge emotional investment in their home as it was the sum total of their life’s achievement, they spoke poor English and had struggled all their life. They didn’t know they were dead and resented this family being in their home.

The father, an engineer, reported that the disturbances were worst when the family had been away for a few days leaving the house empty. On their return the poltergeistry would begin. They heard banging on walls and doors, scratching sounds, saw open doors being shook. During the middle of the night the curtain pelmet, being
wrenched from the wall was flung across the bed and had awaked the couple. This had happened twice, the father had been making the bed one morning and been touched from behind, on turning around he saw no one there, this was too much for him and the family sought help from A.I.P.R.

The son (aged 20) took the view that it was all a lot of nonsense. Marilyn had all of us assemble in the bedroom, this was the focus of the poltergiestry and was much colder than any other part of the house. She went into a trance, it was quite dramatic with Harry her control there to bring her back to full consciousness at the end of the clearing procedure. The atmosphere in the bedroom was emotionally charged and somewhat intimidating to the family, at the end, the bedroom was no longer cold.

The next day the mother telephoned me to say that everything was calm, the house was now warm and peaceful, the whole family had slept beautifully that night. I had sensed a division in the family, the women were curious to know more and the men wanting nothing more to do with it. The mother telephoned again more than a week later to confirm the house was still peaceful and to thank us for our help. The poltegeistery had ended and there was nothing more to the matter.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 19, 2022, 12:40:57 AM

A.I.P.R. received a letter dated 2 June 1994 from a mother seeking help for her married daughter and husband who had both experienced ghostly events and some poltergeistery.

Close to the wife’s 21st Birthday she saw a bright light in the hallway from her bedroom, she said it was her Uncle Roger holding a birthday cake for her. Another time she felt someone sit on her waterbed next to her, she felt the bed move. Her husband woke up one night to see a man sitting next to her, on the waterbed, stroking her face. The husband never knew Uncle Roger so did not recognise him.

Uncle Roger had died in October 1990. He had a very strong belief in survival of Physical Death and had vowed he would return to prove it.

The wife also reported to me, a very bright light waking her about 3 am, it was Uncle Roger holding a fluffy dog with a pink bow tie. The next night, same time, a very bright white light which hurt her eyes, Uncle Roger holding a three tier white wedding cake with a long large red candle. The young married couple were not concerned about the deceased relative, he was no trouble to them and they had a strongly felt affection for him.

As is often the case there were other much less attractive entities present.

House guests sleeping in the second bedroom reported having bed covers pulled away from them to the extent that one individual refuses to sleep at the house again. Kitchen cupboard doors could be heard to open and close, there were banging noises in the roof but rat traps got two rats. Items would disappear and reappear days later in odd locations. A newspaper was thrown across the lounge room scattering all across the floor and pencils stored in a coffee mug jumped out onto the table. A musical box started to play, only softly, it had been unused for a long time and was not wound up. Other items would be moved from their usual location.

The young wife would shout at the activity “Stop it, you’re making me angry” and the activity would cease form some time. Both she and her husband reported the sensed presence of a character they named “old smelly”. She said that she would walk through the smell of an unwashed, wine and urine, man. The smell would disappear quite quickly. Her most frightening experience was in her kitchen when she felt that “it was in her” she felt “the weight of someone in her”.

Marilyn and Harry cleared the house. Months later Marilyn told me they had asked her to get Uncle Roger back because they missed him!

In June 1996 I spoke with them to follow up. They reported their home to be generally quiet although both reported psychic phenomena. The husband’s grandfather had died in Queensland at 4.40 am and he was aware of it at the moment of death, also the wife’s cousin and great aunt had died, the wife telepathically aware of both events instantaneously. They seemed to be at peace with this psychic awareness and had learned to live with it now. They still miss Uncle Roger.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 19, 2022, 12:43:22 AM

A house in Caringbah built upon an aboriginal sacred site in 1826 became the scene of another one of Simon’s successes. Details from the land titles office revealed this house had many different owners and our new owners had bought and renovated this old house for a good price.

The wife noticed the agitated mood of her young children, and the tension between her and her husband who had a history of psychic experiences.

Strange smells and fragrances were noticed, scratching sounds, footsteps on the roof, small phenomena like that. The husband saw an apparition of a female. The main concern was the effect of moods on family members. Simon identified the sacred site, because of an energy well coming out of the ground there in a vortex. He said the renovations in the centre of the house, blocking off interior walls had jammed the system. Complicating matters further an inter-dimensional tunnel emptied out into one of the children’s bedrooms.

Simon commenced the ritual clearing in the usual way. I had not noticed the energy signature of his usual group of non-physical mates and mentioned this. He replied that they couldn’t be here now, they are busy – but that a different group were in attendance.

Simon was describing the unblocking of the up welling energy and the entities emerging into the house, I had no ability to see or sense this, nor did anyone else. The tell tale was the home security system monitoring every room in the house, while all of us sat outside by the pool watching the electronic display indicating activity movement in every room of the house, this lasted for two and a half days. The youngest child became calm and peaceful and over time the family tensions ended. The home is peaceful to this day.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 19, 2022, 12:53:07 AM

I have saved the biggest Ghost job for last. Because of the richness of detail in this case, what I am about to describe is a case Simon described as his biggest and most difficult.

Commencing 12 November 1996 I was contacted by a woman named Carol who made cautious enquiries of AIPR and sought help for her boss Peter, who felt slightly awkward and a bit embarrassed to ask directly for help. I was asked to meet Peter and because he was in Sydney we met the next day.

Peter had bought a very large rural property of 80,000 acres a few years before in the west of New South Wales about 1,000 km from Sydney. The homestead is about 40 years old and is built on the site of the original homestead, which burnt down when it was about 80 years old. The history of the property goes back to the mid nineteenth century when the first white European settlers moved into the area and fought with the traditional landowners the Wongaibon people. In this struggle large numbers of aboriginal people were poisoned, shot or murdered before being dispossessed of their homeland.

The property was haunted with considerable poltergeist activity and Peter was becoming a nervous wreck because of his state of mind and his mood affected by these psychic events.
Peter knew what he was experiencing to be real, but this sort of thing was nonsense and didn’t happen in ordinary life, did it?

The disturbances would start in Springtime, after the trouble-free winters, some of his employees had often seen the ghost of a character named Boxer Tops always dressed in grey bib and braces, the same work clothes he always wore for the 40 odd years he lived on the property. Boxer was from Yugoslavia and somehow ended up in Australia after the war with the Nazis in Europe. He reportedly turned up one day and asked the then property owners if he could camp on the property. They said yes and Boxer Tops stayed there until he died.

He built a home of bits and pieces salvaged from anywhere, made a still and brewed his own alcohol, didn’t speak much English and was severely traumatized by the war experiences becoming a bit of a hermit. He was frequently in and out of Brewarrina Psychiatric Hospital.

Small items would go missing at the homestead, two pairs of scissors, a bottle of Worcester sauce, video tapes, spanners, fencing pliers, salt and pepper, peanut butter, honey and half a bottle of scotch, Cigarettes etc.

At night Peter would hear someone running barefoot through the house, then the sound of two men fighting in the attic but when he went to investigate he was always alone. By this time no one else would sleep in the homestead, one fellow, Greg, left the property because of the frightening disturbances, another, a visitor to the property described being strangled in his sleep.

Peter said he has become accident prone, chopping the top off one finger, cutting a leg with a chain saw. He feels as though his personality has been influenced and he doesn’t like people coming into his home anymore. I told Peter I would be able to clear the homestead as soon as I could get our group of people together, I didn’t know yet when we would all be able to meet.

On Saturday 16th I met with Simon at his home in Sydney and we held a ceremony to remotely clear the homestead 1,000 km away. Simon psychically described old Boxer Tops as haunting the home, a sort of remote viewing.

Another character, George, a young convict who escaped into the far west was also haunting the homestead and stealing all the items that Peter had reported missing. This rascal George had gone out to this district in the days when convicts were still transported to Australia. George hung around the Wongaibon people and got speared for his involvement with the women of the tribe. George would steal items and share them amongst his aboriginal chums.

Boxer Tops fought with George about this theft, a non-physical fight in the attic. Boxer was very protective of his host’s property and resentful of George’s behaviour. During the ceremony to clear the homestead Simon asked that all the stolen / missing items be returned, we asked that spirit beings of love light and peace open the tunnel of light which Boxer was drawn to, George was somewhat fearful and suspicious. Simon persuading him that there were good pickings to be had at the light in the end of the tunnel. He eventually went off too.

Around one o’clock that night I was awakened by Boxer Tops‘ presence in my bedroom. I experienced my heart glowing, radiant and filling the width of the bedroom, I sensed Boxer’s thanks for setting him free by introducing him to the beings of love light, peace and beauty and he was showering me with thanks. I was deeply moved. Boxer has free will, as we all do, to return to the light anytime and for a few years after this event I would sense him with me whenever I would talk about him or think of him, but I think he has gone on now.

I went back to sleep only to be woken up at 3 am by George in the corner of the room.
‘You were right about the pickings’ he telepathed to me, and I haven’t sensed him ever since. 
Late the next day, Sunday morning, Peter telephoned to say that around 10.30pm last night he felt so peaceful and full of energy that he went for a run in the moonlight. I said, “Well that is when we finished clearing your home last night”.

On January 3rd 1997 Peter phoned to say, “you’re not going to believe this but missing items turned up” . Three pairs of scissors in a cupboard, $1,100 in cash in a filling cabinet, a gardening book and even odder, a full set of Tupperware in the kitchen. No one on the homestead knows where the Tupperware came from but they’ve kept it anyway, they don’t know who it belongs to. Peter reported that the house was still peaceful and Boxer Tops is still seen around the other buildings on the property by himself and others.

Twenty-two months later on 7 October 1998 Peter was in touch with AIPR again. While inside the homestead all was well, but once outside on the property or in the out buildings he noticed his mood and thoughts being negatively influenced. The cook Kim reported the same experience. They would go back inside the homestead and their mood would change back for the better. Peter sensed being “dogged by back luck” and becoming overwhelmed or at his wits end. 
One employee, David, described a gate latch lifting by itself, the gate opened by itself and then closed.

On 12th October Simon checked with his non-physical chums who advised that since the traditional owners of the land, the deceased Wongaibon people, were all across the property. They had no intention of coming to Sydney for a clearing ceremony so we would have to go out there to do the job. So we made plans to travel on 16th and come home on 20th October. Our advice being that we would need that many days to complete our task.

Simon and I arrived at the property about 11pm after a long drive. We sat around drinking tea and talking with Kim and Peter for an hour or so before going to bed. I had been asleep for about two hours when the noise of people running around the wooden verandah floor and the banging of flyscreen doors woke me up. It was still very dark. Next, three glowing beings walked into my room through the door, they were humanoid and a sort of silvery sparkling glowing colour. I could hear Simon snoring down the hallway and I knew Peter was sleeping on the other side of the house with a gun beside his bed. I sat up in bed staring at these three tall beings, one was very tall say 7 to 8 foot and the other two the same height about 6 foot. I sent telepathic messages to them but got no response, except the other noises were now quiet. They were staring at me, but ignoring me, this lasted for seven to eight minutes then they vanished while in full vision.

I was having a cup of tea with Simon in the morning sunlight and mentioned this to him. He described these glowing beings to me. He described their height, manner, and the manner of soldiers on duty. Just letting me know they are here. “Oh don’t worry about them they’re on our side” Simon said, “You don’t think I’d sleep in this place without protection do you?” I was pleased to hear this.

Simon later remote viewed the whole property and described a place, the scene of a mass slaughter of aboriginal people long ago. Peter said it could be one of three or four locations on the 100 square miles of property and we decided to go find this place after we had cleared off all the troublemakers, discarnate entities, in a few days time.

I was in over my level of skill on this job, and Simon was too, he just allowed his non-physical friends to guide him, they said it’s to do with the turtle. Neither Simon or I knew what this meant so I asked one of the aboriginal men who worked on the property, what it meant to him. The turtle is symbolic of the source of all things, the creator; I translated this to mean the Gaia principle in transpersonal psychology – the intelligence of the earth.

Everyone who worked on the property neighbours the local police officers and anyone who had experienced haunting and poltergiestery on the property was invited to the ceremonial seance that evening, I think we got a full house. After the sun had gone down about 20 people sat circled on the verandah, which is wide enough for everyone.

Simon called in his non-physical friends; “the light brigade” I nicknamed them, and they arrived with their customary energy signature spinning around the room. A very large number of souls, discarnate entities former Wongaibon people went off to the light without a second of hesitation abandoning the Kadaitja man (pronounced Kadika).

In Australian aboriginal culture the traditional men of high degree (Elkin 1943) were of two types positive and negative, the Kadaitja man is the payback man, of ritual killings and sorcery. This pre literate technology of the shaman exists unbroken to this day.

With Kadaitja man isolated and extremely angry at being abandoned by his own people; there commenced a titanic struggle between good and evil. Kadaitja man wanted his traditional land and power over his clan, he wanted everyone else scared away and was doing a good job at frightening others away. The seance ended well into the night and people drifted on home.

Simon was wondering what to do next, we sat out under the vast bright starry sky. Out there the land is as flat as can be for a thousand kilometres in any direction and the night sky is awesome being so far away from anywhere. The annual sky show of meteorites, the Leonids, commenced this night, falling in from space and blazing across the sky (there was no moon). We got no sleep that night.

We had arrived at the turtle point in this contest between good and evil. A demonstration of the power of all creation for good. Simon would channel this energy seated on a chair in the kitchen. I could feel the heat coming off him from across the room, even in the middle of the day.
Negative non-physical beings prefer to avoid the presence of good and move away, well away from the area when powerful energies of love unity and kindness are invited in. This is a demonstration of the power of creative harmony of the universe and its intelligence. Higher spiritual beings are from this energy and they have the power to overcome evil. Kadaitja man was banished by the end of the day.

On the following morning Peter, Simon and I all got into his Ute and set off in search of the site of the massacre. None of us had much sleep and it was a hot day bouncing along in the sun, the mud and flies. After visiting three sites Simon call out “there it is!” as we crossed the concrete one lane bridge across the Bogan River. We walked to the site, a billabong with many shade trees; it is a pleasant place to camp, the river was low and its muddy banks one side a grey coloured mud and across on the western bank the earth is red ochre. Symbolic of the oldest earth on the planet the red earth of Western Australia and the new land of the east, here the division of water.

From high up on the riverbank I could see the wooden pilings of the original first bridge across exposed by the low water. I pointed this out to Simon and Peter, they walked toward the pilings. Peter walking ahead noticed there a cold air “tube” slightly to the south of the pilings, Simon experienced this as well. They both scrambled up to where I was to get a better look. From here Simon could see an inter-dimensional tunnel, a tunnel into the dreamtime and standing in the tunnel an elder aboriginal spirit whom he recognised from a dozen years ago. This elder had told him then that he would be working on such a project as this, at that time it seemed very unlikely to Simon who is a city dweller like me.

Interestingly this original wooden bridge is built only a few degrees off the dreamtime entrance to the tunnel. Symbolic of conquest on a subconscious level. Simon explained, “This is the site of the major massacre of Wombaigon, their favourite Billabong and access to the dreamtime. Kadaitja man trained in revenge killing and payback prevented his people from access to the next world. Seeking to terrorise the white settlers until they leave the land.

It was time for Simon and I to leave the next morning after a celebratory barbecue and a few beers that evening and everyone joined in. Simon’s energy levels were still so high from the channelling of Gaia energy he couldn’t eat much and refused alcohol for several weeks until his body got back to normal.

I spoke to Peter in December 2001 and he confirms the place has been quiet and peaceful ever since our visit in October 1998.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 24, 2022, 02:00:54 AM

For some few weeks past considerable excitement has prevailed amongst residents of Six-mile Flat, Warri-Bombay (writes the Braidwood Dispatch) by a series of extraordinary occurrences, the origin of which is still as deep and impenetrable as ever, not-withstanding the most careful and rigid inquiry, although there are people who refuse to believe anything else than that they are the result of supernatural agency.

It appears that a miner named Cunningham and a male lived in a hut belonging to Mr. Terence M'Graft which is situated close to the Shoalhaven River. They had occupied the place for some time, when all of a sudden, one night the building was bombarded with clods from an ant bed which had been picked up by Cunningham, and which is situated about 100 yards from the hut.

The pieces of hard mud penetrated tbe cracks between the slabs, although how some of them could get through it puzzled them, since they were larger than the opening. They naturally looked about to find the author of the throwing, but without any success. When they went outside, the clods hit the inside of the building. On the following night a repetition of the business occurred, and the men became somewhat alarmed. They told some others of it, at the same time expressing their belief that the throwing was the work of a ghost.

These persons visited the scene, and found the facts exactly as stated by Cunningham and his mate. The story spread, and others viewing the matter as a joke, likewise visited the place with the assurance that they at least would discover the origin of these peculiar occurrences. They left in the same happy condition of mystification as those who had preceded them, although they went with guns, which they fired in the direction from where the throwing proceeded. And here we may remark that the clods thrown strike the hut in almost exactly the same place every time between two slabs near the window.

On several occasions no less than eighteen people have been on the lookout at the same time, forming a sort of semi-circle round the side of the hut where the throwing occurs. They fired their guns, loaded with shot, into the bushes of the trees surrounding the place, with such good effect that there is not a tree or log within a couple of hundred yards of the hut that is not riddled with shot.

To make sure that the clods came from the ant bed, a number of them were marked with charcoal, and these have been subsequently found inside the hut, perfectly unbroken. Although the spot is plainly within view of the watchers, and any one visiting it could easily be detected, and to make assurance doubly sure the watchers have actually placed cotton thread on small stakes right round the bed, but this line was not broken or touched, showing that there is no possibility of anyone sneaking up to the bed, throwing the clods, and running away.

Although the proceedings are most mysterious, and rival the recent stone-throwing case near Sydney, which created such excitement some short time ago that the metropolitan papers even devoted considerable space to the extraordinary proceedings enacted there. The most peculiar thing about the matter is that the clod-throwing started simultaneously with the disturbing of the ant bed by Cunningham.

And what is still more peculiar, the presence of this man in the hut is absolutely necessary to produce the "manifestations." Without him there is no clod-throwing. Many sensible, level-headed men have visited the spot, and although loth to believe that the throwing is done by any supernatural agency, they are absolutely unable to account for the proceedings. The throwing usually commences at about half-past 10 o'clock at night, and continues sometimes till daybreak, although as a rule it only lasts for a couple or three hours.

Published by Warwick Examiner and Times Qld, Sat 4 May 1895
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 24, 2022, 02:05:25 AM

On many a dark, damp night, an eerie phenomenon made itself visible to locals and flitted around paddocks just outside of Tinonee, in what used to be known as Milbai. The apparition came to be called the Tinonee Ghost, or Wynter’s Ghost, after the owner of the property it was said to haunt, and it became a part of Australian folklore.

What many believed to be a supernatural spectre took the form of a light that could be seen from the opposite riverbank at Taree West. The Tinonee Ghost put Tinonee on the map in 1927, as the Wingham Chronicle and Manning River Observer reported the spooky manifestation on April 22, saying it was “just the brand of ghost that would scare even a courting couple.”

“It seems that periodically curious lights appear in a valley situated a little north-west of the village. The light appears quite suddenly and unconcerned, and travels rapidly up a hill nearby, and then disappears as suddenly,” the Wingham Chronicle reported. 

Some people are now of the opinion that the ghost is produced by 'Marsh Gas' – whatever that is. It certainly is not produced by 'Tinonee Whisky' for Tinonee 'went clean stark, staring dry' a long time ago. 

“Whatever has produced the ghost this at any rate is quite agreed — the Tinonee Ghost is a real live ghost and is awe inspiring to those who have had the privilege and the displeasure of gazing upon its movements – for they are of the greased lightning variety.”

In 1932 the Tinonee Ghost again made the rounds of the press, as being one of three places in NSW the “mysterious phantom lights” made their presence felt. Marsh gases, will-o’-the-wisps, and corpse candles were said to be “not uncommon” and were given as possible explanations for the lights.

Many people believed them to be Min Min lights – spirits of Aboriginal folklore that pre-dates European history. In 1974 the Tinonee Ghost again made itself known, though it had believed not to have been seen since the 1950s. The Manning River Times writer ‘Uncle Des’ thought the ghost to be due to a type of flashing firefly, and a visitor from New Zealander who said she had contact with the supernatural made the papers when she said it was possible it could be UFO.

Mr John Waterman, who was a boy in the ghost’s heydays, wrote in his letter to the editor, “Though it did not unduly scare people most were quite content to give it a wide berth, and there were amusing tales in those days of folk proceeding to or from Mondrook, on foot or horseback, clapping on a tidy turn of speed as they passed the Milbai property.”

Mr Frank Saxby joined in the conversation: 
“Ghost watchers used to gather on the Taree side of the river bank. The ghost took the form of a light. This light sometimes shone brilliantly, sometimes only glowing. It raced and danced about the paddocks, sometimes travelling at great speed, ground level and in the air. I would estimate it would cover a distance of a quarter of a mile in a matter of seconds. It’s brilliance was great enough at times to light up surrounding vegetation and trees. It often lit up a group of trees at the Tinonee village end of Mr Wynter’s property, lighting up the trunks quite visibly.

“Another theory was that it was a practical joker with a lantern, But believe me, no practical joker could get about as quickly as I saw this ‘lantern’ move, nor as  bright as it,” Mr Saxby said.

In 1998 Manning River Times journalist Peter Hay wrote about the ghost, with some old locals weighing in on the discussion. Veteran Taree historian and author Len Holstein was one of the people that believed the ghost to be Min Min lights. 

The Tinonee Ghost has been said to be due to pranksters, marsh gases, fireflies, glow worms, corpse candles, Min Min lights and even UFOs, however the odd thing about the ‘ghost’ was this: there was only ever one light at a time. 
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 24, 2022, 02:08:40 AM

Daniel “G’s” family had no reason to fear the ghosts of residents past when they moved into their brand new home in the Melbourne suburb of Endeavour Hills, but after a few years, things began to happen.

“It started in 2004. I had a few friends in my room with the door locked from the inside,” Daniel says, “We were all talking when the door suddenly unlocked. I stepped out, thinking one of my brothers had the key, but there was no one there. Then I saw that the only key was in my bedroom. We thought maybe the door wasn’t locked properly. But later we heard someone speaking and laughing outside the room. When we went out this time, there was no one there, but we could clearly hear voices from upstairs.”

“My brothers and I usually feel things a couple of times a week. You see things out of the corner of your eye – like a shadow; or you hear footsteps. And I’ve seen blue balls of light, with the inside of the house lit up as if the walls were blue. It used to freak me out, but my parents said, “It’s your imagination.”

Daniel isn’t fazed by his experiences “I don’t feel afraid and I’m now a paranormal investigator. I’ve picked up a couple of EVPs (electronic voice phenomena). I picked up a voice saying “Hello”. I’d heard a loud crash upstairs. Nothing had fallen, but I saw someone peeking around the corner – like a silhouette or shadow. My brother saw it too."

"I went to my room and it felt like there was another presence and I heard a knock on the widow. Then my brother came running in. He’d heard breathing outside and someone knocked on his window twice.”

There was one particularly unsettling incident in 2009. “I was upstairs and I heard hisses from the bathroom,” Daniel recounts, “I said that I wanted to sleep – pretty forcefully. Then I felt tight pressure around my neck and throat. It was hard to breath. I got the impression something was strangling me. Then the stereo switched itself on, and it was playing.” Daniel has no idea what triggered the episodes. “A psychic friend thinks the house was built where ley lines cross.”
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 24, 2022, 02:11:30 AM

No ordinary ghost this; but one endowed with ethereal transience and, at the same time, possessing power to knock down an 18 stone man and strike terror in the hearts of nearly 30 people.

The debut of the supernatural visitant at Ballina coincided with the encampment of a contingent in the colourful costumes of gypsies. Their "caravans" comprised three of the most modern cars. Feeling secure in River-street and, with his band sleeping peacefully in the cars believing that no ghost had walked upon a State Highway, the leader related a remarkable story.

The party arrived from Coolangatta shortly after 5 pm yesterday and, after making purchases in the town, commenced to make camp near the Ballina baths. The atmosphere proved their contentment with their lot as wanderers as the children played unconcernedly about the camp and fires, where their mothers sang as they prepared the meal.

Suddenly, from out of the dark of the evening a wraith-like figure appeared. It lacked substance but approached with a material purpose in ghostly steps that glided over the ground without sound. Over six feet in height, with the white transparency of the arms showing clearly against the night, large white eyes and drooping white mouth, the ghost approached the camp.

Children screamed and ran for the protection of their mothers who had stopped singing as the leader's challenge "Stop, for God's sake, stop ! Who are you ? Stop, or I'll fire" was called. Still the figure approached and added the leader. "My brother Joseph fell to the ground. No hits but just like a puff of wind and he fell and rolled over three times while the ghost passed over him."

The camp was broken and, thoroughly terrified, the gypsies moved their cars to the bright lighting of River-street and the women completed the preparation of the half cooked meal over the stove of a cafe. Children continued to cry, but were soon comforted and the party slept in the cars until this morning, content with the assurance of the police that the patrol of the streets would prevent the appearance of further ghosts.

The leader stated that he had never believed in ghosts before last night. A proposal to return to the scene met an emphatic refusal.

"The ghost is there and the land is bad. He will knock you over and roll you in the river. It is the
ghost of some person who has been drowned," he said.
The mystery of the sudden fright of the band is still unsolved. Who or what is Ballina's ghost?

Published by Northern Star Lismore, NSW, Mon 13 Mar 1939
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on July 24, 2022, 02:16:54 AM

The prosaic and ordinarily extremely natural life of Townsville has lately been intruded upon by a visitant of peculiar tendencies. This unwelcome being, bearing all the outward semblance of a man, clothed in nothing but a common shirt, having about him no shimmering, gauze-like robes indicative of service in the celestial orchestra, selects the very early hours of the morning to fool around respectable men's bed-posts, and to strike terror into their hearts through their scarcely open eyes by representing a suicide.

Gentle reader, this is a statement of fact, vouched for by two unimpeachable witnesses resident in Townsville, and lodgers in a certain house of public accommodation, in the now haunted room of which a man " shuffled off his mortal coil " either at his own sweet will, or by the hand of one of his fellow-men. We are responsible only for an unvarnished recital of the circumstances under which the apparition has been twice seen within the past three weeks.

To believers in spiritualism we have no doubt the succeeding particulars will have considerable interest, and will prove a problem hard of solution, whilst for the sceptics there will be matter for laughter and ridicule.

Therefore, let the smile be smothered, and the jeer restrained, and the refutation of the possibility of spirits visiting the earth be deferred until we harrow up the blood, lay an icy finger on the heart strings, and make " each particular hair stand on end " on the heads of our readers, by recounting the thrilling particulars we have gleaned of the Townsville ghost : —

The night was far spent, and the balmy breezes from Ross Creek were wafted like an angel's benediction to the end and centre of Flinders-street, and far away up into the star-spangled heights of Castle hill. It was broad moonlight, and the lambent rays of the Queen of Night stole softly in through the half-opened window of a room wherein two men reclined on single iron bedsteads, nicely curtained, and possessing all the other appurtenances which go to make up what is commonly known as "a bed."

Sleepless and cogitative, one of the men decided to relieve the monotony of the solitude caused by the slumber of his room-mate, by smoking a fragrant manilla. This he did, the while he thought  of " England, home, and beauty," the " Friendship of dear old pals," " Gentle Annie." "The little old log cabin in the lane.” The cigar having burnt unpleasantly near his mouth, he looked door-wards to throw the stump out, when his startled gaze was rivelted by the form of a man's figure at the foot of his bed.

The trunk was covered by a shirt, and the legs dangled significantly ; the nape of the neck could be seen just below the calico-covering of the bed, and oh,, horror, a rope seemed to pass round the neck and over the brass nob at the top of the corner-post, the face and head being hidden by the calico, but apparently hanging over the other or outer side of the bed, and a clear case of strangulation being vividly present to the man's affrighted mind. The mind of the man in bed we mean — not the other one, suspended at the foot of it.

The live and now thoroughly awake man rubbed his eyes, and looked towards the other bed to make sure that his mate was not playing a lark on him. But no ! all was correct in that quarter — the sleeper being " all secure," and snoring in a most angelic manner. This state of things was exasperating, unbearable, and the victim of spiritualism was about to spring from his bed, and discover whether his eyesight was deceiving him, when the hanging object vanished — where there had been a tangible form there was now nothing but thin air, and the almost equally thin iron-bars at top of the bed-stead.

What was it ?
Where had it gone or how had it come ?

The startled man did not know, nor do we. Suffice it to say, the man swears he saw it, and he is like Brutus, "an honorable man," and certainly would not lie to gain an enviable notoriety. However, he kept the secret of the night locked closely in his own heart until about a fortnight afterwards, when his mate let fall some remarks which gave force to his belief that he had not been mistaken is seeing what he believed to be a supernatural object.

Now for the mate's story : —  On a certain morning he said to his friend, " You must have been tight when you came in last night."

To this, No. 1 (let us call him) said " I was not ; I have drunk nothing but ' soft stuff' for a month past."

No 2 : “ Then what were you up to, playing gymnastics at the foot of my bed!"

No. 1 : "I didn't go near the foot of your bed ; I came in about eleven, and I turned in at once."

No. 2 : " Well, I'll swear some man was at the foot of my bed with his head over the top, and his legs hanging down."

Here was a strange corroboration of the apparition seen by No. 1. The two men at once compared notes, and the result was they both averred having seen identically the same thing at the foot of each of their beds, even to the rope round the ghastly figure's neck. Both men are thoroughly trustworthy and could certainly hope for nothing but ridicule, if they had concocted such a strange story ; for people in the present generation are not given to believing anything very particular about the movements of departed spirits.

Both the men who say they saw the ghost were sober, they are not imaginative men — nor are they given to romancing. Neither one would back the other, for mere sport, in stating so consecutively all about a "vision of the night." We leave the mystery with our readers, let them solve it. The foregoing is a record of fact, not a string of fiction. Men pass and repass the house every day where the strange scene was enacted. Every time we peregrinate in that direction we look up longingly to a certain window in hopes of seeing the midnight prowler from the spirit-world. He must be a restless sort of fellow, or else he would not come scaring decent men when they want to sleep and when he ought to be putting in his time in some profitable occupation. If men who depart from this life have nothing better to do than to mouch back again and startle honest men, we don't see much advantage in dying at all, especially by means of suicide.

Sceptical reader, " you may take our tale with a little salt, but it needs none nevertheless. " Can you explain it ?
If you can, and when you do, " make a note on it. “

Published by The Areas' Express Booyoolee, SA, Fri 5 Feb 1886
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on August 13, 2022, 01:02:15 AM

A particular friend of mine has a very near relation living in Surry Hills who has witnessed very strange sights for some time past. She has often spoken to him on the subject ; and he has as often warned her against being deceived by optical illusion. She has religiously maintained, however, that what she has so often seen had nothing to do with imagination or distorted vision.

What she did see was a brilliant light, about 80 or 90 yards from her own house. This light made its appearance in the yard of a house opposite her residence. Instead of resting on the ground, it appeared to be raised a few feet. Everything around it was dark ; but that is not all. It assumed fantastic shapes, and on one occasion took the form of a gigantic man, walked out of the yard, and disappeared round the corner of the next street.

Until Sunday night, the 15th instant, my friend was not only sceptical on the subject, but cruelly indifferent. But on the night just mentioned, while standing at the door of his relation, he beheld the very light about which he heard so much. His relation saw it at the same time, and called a neighbour to witness it, to whom it was also visible. Whatever it was, it was seen at least by three witnesses (known to the writer). On this occasion, the light was eclipsed now and again by the luminous shadow of a man who passed it, and was at last extinguished. All was then darkness.

The most remarkable part of the story is, that although my friend saw this strange light and shadowy form for nearly an hour, which, he avows, seemed to him most mysterious, he did not approach the scene of their appearance, nor in any way exert himself to account for the mystery. Late on the same night, he acquainted me, in the presence of two gentlemen, of what he had seen.

He was somewhat agitated, and appeared disposed to talk of nothing but "the ghost," As my friend is a man whose word is as good as the bank, we believed, in the first place, that he saw something ; and, in the second place, that the something he saw partook of an extraordinary character. This led us to decide upon a ghost expedition the next morning (Monday, 16th), at the lonely hour of 3.

As we started for the haunted spot, we all laughed heartily at the ludicrous character of the mission before us. The morning, however, was very dark and dreary ; but we assured one another that we were "not afraid of ghosts." Weird stories about apparitions were related as we proceeded across the racecourse ; and although we laughed at them, I noticed the laugh was rather forced than otherwise. The gentleman who had seen the strange sight the night previously happened to mention something which he had forgotten to inform us.

In the very yard in which he had seen the light and luminous figure, a human head — the head of a man had been discovered a few years ago ; the yard had, in fact, been the scene of a dreadful tragedy. One of our party had the courage to suggest that perhaps the "departed was looking for his head ! " We attempted to laugh at
this ; but it was a miserable failure — we showed our teeth, like grinning monkeys; but the open-mouthed jovial laugh which we started with a few minutes before had comxfletely deserted us.

At last, we arrived in front of the yard. It looked bleak and ghostly. But no light made its appearance. Perhaps this did not displease us. The indescribable feeling of terror that had crept over us was gradually leaving us— but leaving us very slowly. All was not safe yet. Although it (whatever it was) did not yet appear to us it might do so at any moment. Had a bull thrust its head over the fence, and cried "Bah," I verily believe the four of us would have fell on the ground. No bull, however, was so unmerciful. We began to speculate on the mystery, but with great caution, avoiding words or remarks calculated to offend ghosts.

I began to philosophise on the subject. Phenomenal lights, created by certain conditions of atmosphere, and assuming shapes startling to the human eye, was a theme I attempted to handle to some advantage. Phosporous, will- o'-the-wisps, reflected lights, magic lanterns and so forth, were all spoken of : but all sounded "flat." They had neither the effect of solving the mystery nor of banishing our nervousness. A mysterious presence seemed to preside over the spot ; and, although felt, since it did not make itself visible, we removed to the door from which it had been seen on Sunday night.

Here we breathed with more freedom ; but none of us dared to ridicule the idea of ghosts. As the strange spectacle did not reveal itself, two of the party expressed a wish to leave, one to go home, the other to look for a public-house. The former made off at a brisk pace ; the latter seemed somewhat undecided. He invited us to accompany him in quest of a drop of something to fortify our nerves. "To be better able to withstand the sight of spirits, we had better have a drop of spirits !" Such was his offer ; but we resisted the temptation. He then left us, with the intention of visiting Oxford-street ; but we noticed that as he approached the "ghostly yard" on his way thither, his pace became slow.

All of a sudden, he wheeled round, retraced his steps, and ran home as fast as his legs could carry him. It appears he had "changed his mind ! " with regard to spirituous stimulants, but he assures us that he " did not at all feel frightened ! " My friend kept me company in the haunted locality for a considerable time after this ; but nothing showed itself, excepting a constable, who did not seem too well pleased at the idea of a ghost visiting his beat. We parted at the first signs of daylight.

Published by The Protestant Standard Sydney, NSW Sat 4 Apr 1874
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on August 13, 2022, 01:13:46 AM

The “Mudgee Independent” reported that the Lang family who lived 24 miles from Cooyal were being troubled by falling stones. According to the family the stones would fall through the roof
or float through the air without the slightest warning, Mrs Lang said when a stone fell on the floor it fell with a dull thud & appeared to be black in colour.

When asked if the stones had ever hit anyone she replied that some of her children had been struck but never very hard. They described it as being as if a small bag of feathers had struck them. On the first evening Mr Lang was returning home with a bag of flour on a pack horses, on approaching the house the animal showed reluctance to proceed further. On being unpacked he immediately bolted.

At that moment the stones started to fall for the first time. During the evening & on each successive evening from 5pm till 9 or 10 pm the stones continued to fall. On several occasions they floated into the house - sometimes in a diagonal position - at other times horizontally.

One evening a flat stone floated in at the door, struck a kerosene lamp on table, turned and knocked against half a dozen plates causing them to roll to the floor, fortunately nothing was broken. The stones, although not seen by the reporter were said to be about 5″ in diameter, nearly circular in shape & flat.


During the 1990’s, Rev. Kay was the minister at the church I attended – St Michael’s Church, Surry Hills. When he came to us he was a quaint sort of man who grew up in Tasmania. Rev Kay wasn’t quite sure what to say or do when a young woman contacted him saying that there was a ghost in her house – things kept moving, lights and electrical appliances went on and off, etc….

He visited the young woman at her old Elizabeth St terrace, heard her story, then thought he would investigate a bit further (just to see if she was crazy, I guess). He asked one of the neighbours, “Is there anything unusual about the house next door?”

“Oh, no,” replied the neighbour, “everything there is pretty normal, except for the ghost of course!”
Even though he was not one to believe in such things, Rev Kay felt that the young woman could do with some sort of help. On his next visit, he asked the student minister, Gavin Wilcox, to join him. They decided to go up to the woman’s bedroom, since that was where most of the “activity” happened.

The weather had been fine when they first arrived at the house , but just as they started to pray an almighty thunderstorm hit right overhead. (I was driving at the time and had a view of the city The sky turned quite an unusual shade of green in the area around Central Station. Rev Kay had told me of this appointment and I remember thinking, WOW, that’s some powerful prayer meeting going on.”

Now the weather may have been “just a coincidence”, but the seeming special effects really impressed all in attendance. After the prayers the girl was not bothered again by the ghost and Rev Kay now has a somewhat less sceptical approach to the supernatural.


My sister once attended a seance at the house of her ex-fiance’s mother’s friend, in the mid 1980s. The house was adjacent to the site of Old Government Farm at Castle Hill, down the hill west of Oakhill College.

The friend, Peggy, claimed to be psychic and that she had sometimes seen a male figure in colonial dress, either the full figure or the top half, walking in or standing in the house, particularly in doorways.

My sister is a very matter-of-fact person and is not much into ghosties. The friend, Peggy, is also your standard WASP, tell-it-like-it-is type of lady. My sister said the seance itself was the most eerie thing she has ever experienced, and it made her convinced that there are things we can’t explain.

During the seance they heard the voice of a man who said his name was John and the definite feeling of a very real presence. It wasn’t frightening, just really unsettling as she could not figure out how or why Peggy would be able to “set it up” and fake it. She was utterly convinced there was no explanation for what she heard and felt. There were other details but I forget them now, there was a full name and other details I think like he was a teacher.

Anyhow Peggy then went to the Mitchell Library to research Old Government Farm and surrounds, and looked up the name she had been given by the ghost. Sure enough, she found that there really was a teacher with that name, and some of the other details matched up, too.

My same no-nonsense sister had a new “most eerie thing I have ever experienced” experience more recently in her family holiday cabin on the Hawkesbury River, near Windsor. She woke through the night to see torchlight and a male figure leaning over her oldest son’s bunk. She thought it was her husband but realised that he wasn’t as big as her husband and that her husband was still in bed beside her. She quickly woke her husband, and got up to check her son the male figure had completely vanished, with no sign or sound, and her son, who is a notoriously restless sleeper, who always kicks the covers on to the ground, was neatly tucked into his bunk.
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on August 13, 2022, 01:28:09 AM

Twenty years ago, Signor Lardelli, a noted Italian maestro, was resident in Perth. He came out with an Italian opera company, and, liking the Australian climate, remained here. He was well known throughout Australia as a pianist and composer. His songs and other compositions are still popular, and I heard one. " Russian Love Song " over the air only the other day.

Was at that time, enjoying a lengthy stay in Western Australia, fulfilling a number of engagements to sing on the concert platform. I was introduced to Lardelli, who assisted me considerably by obtaining many additional engagements for me, and imparting his method of interpretation to several songs of his own composition some of which he composed specially to suit my voice. One song in particular he was very fond of, and he would get me to include It whenever possible.

“ I am never tired of hearing you sing it," he said one day, " and I think I would come back from the dead to hear it once again."

I think I must have treated the remark very lightly, for he continued very seriously, " I mean that, and promise you this, that if ever you are in any difficulties with your singing, and have passed over I will come back and help you." I am afraid I did not think a great deal more of the remark, and when, many months later, I met Lardelli In Queensland, and we continued our musical association, the incident was never referred to again.

In the following year I returned to Perth to fulfil a number of singing engagements, culminating in a big concert at the Town Hall. The event was an important one musically, and, contrary to my usual custom, I was particularly nervous. By a coincidence, Lardelli’s son-in-law was the accompanist that evening. As soon as I entered the hall, a was seized with a fit of the most utter depression which I could not account for.

As a rule, apart from the slight nervousness which every singer experiences, I felt an exhilaration In my work, which increased as the evening went on, but on this occasion I could not combat this feeling of depression, and the friendly welcome which was expended to me on my appearance did not restore my confidence in myself. I am sure I have never sung worse in my life. The notes simply refused to come out, and I forced and labored the operatic aria, which was my opening number, in a manner which thoroughly disgusted me. I cannot really describe my feelings. The number was one which I had featured on many occasions, and my Press book testified that I had always  done myself credit, but on this occasion I felt that I was disgracing myself. I finished on a note that seemed uncertain and untrue, and dissolved into tears when I stood again in the dressing-room while my accompanist was selecting the number to follow. I noticed that he was regarding me with amazement.

"What on earth is the matter with you?" he said. "Aren't you well. I thought at one time that you were going to break down."

I ignored him, and snatched the music from his hands. "I'm going to change my number," I said. "I'll sing this."

Almost unknowingly I had selected Lardelli’s favourite composition, and without giving him a chance to make any comment, I returned to the stage. Again, I cannot describe the change which had come over me. In place of hesitancy, came confidence, I sang without effort, and from the very first note I felt that I held my audience in the hollow of my hands. The feeling of depression seemed to have been swept away, and I finished the number in a burst of applause which earned for me an emphatic encore.

For the rest of the programme my confidence was restored. In the second half I substituted another number of Lardelli’s, a very beautiful "Ave Maria," and then another of his compositions which had been  specially written for me, and by the time the concert had concluded I had almost entirely forgotten my feelings of depression, and was my own self again.

I was staying at the time in Mount Street as the guest of Mrs. Bennet — mother of Enid Bennet, now Mrs. Fred Nlblo— and on the following morning two ladies called to see me. They were total strangers, and after introducing themselves, asked me whether I believed in Spiritualism. I explained that, although I had not made a study of the subject, I was certainly interested.

"Why have you called to ask me that?" I said.

"Because of a curious manifestation last night," they replied, and then went on to explain that they had been present at the concert at the Town Hall, and had heard me sing. They then asked me whether I knew of anyone who had passed over who would be interested in my singing career. After racking my brains I was forced to say that I did not, and they then explained that, on my second appearance, I had been accompanied on the stage by an elderly man who wore glasses, and who had stood by my side the whole of the time I was singing.

I asked them to describe him in detail, and, to my astonishment, their description was a most faithful word portrait of my friend and teacher, Lardelli, whom I had left in Queensland in perfect health not so many weeks before. I am afraid I rather ridiculed their suggestion, as I told them that the person whom they described was alive and well, but they left me convinced that I would soon learn something to the contrary. I realised that I might have been somewhat rude, and took their address and promised to communicate with them should I hear anything.

An hour later I received word that Lardelli was indeed dead, having passed away 48 hours previously, and I immediately communicated with the ladies, who again called on me. Their talk convinced me that they had indeed never set eyes on the maestro in the flesh, and that the manifestation they professed to have seen was indeed a perfect portrait of the man.

Was it a manifestation?

I am afraid I shall never know. I do know that whatever it was, something saved me that night. Something beyond my powers of expression. I am convinced that had I sung again with the same feeling of utter depression and lack of confidence, my professional reputation would have suffered.

I explained to the two ladies the circumstances of Lardelll's promise to return if I ever needed him, and throughout the years I have always liked to believe that they were right, and that he did keep his word, and came back to me at a moment when I most needed his presence to inspire me with confidence.

Published by Smith's Weekly Sydney, NSW Sat 26 Feb 1938
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on August 13, 2022, 01:42:18 AM

There is a ghost haunting the good people of Kempsey. It appears in the form of an old woman, tall, lean, and haggard. It has appeared on three consecutive nights, to the great dismay of  Mr. Job Stanford, Mr. Francis M'Carthy, and another man.

“ Unlike most ghosts," says the Independent, that are said to steal away like guilty creatures, it approached the men, and its ghastly appearance and unearthly shrieks are said to be such as to freeze one's blood and make the hair of your head stand perpendicular on end.

Some years ago, near the spot where the spectre appeared, resided an old man and woman, who, so report has it, lived a very unhappy-life; and the old woman died in a most wretched condition. We cannot say whether there is any analogy between this said old woman and the spectral vision seen by Mr. Stanford and others, but if such is the fact, the inference is that the old dame wishes the misdeeds of her cruel spouse to be kept fresh in the memory of his fellow men.

So sanguine is Mr Stafford that he is laboring under no delusion that he is willing to point out the place to anyone desirous of viewing strange sights. Being of a nervous temperament ourselves we decline the offer, but would advise those whose nerves are stronger to make a visit to the spot and judge for themselves."

Published by The Manning River News NSW Sat 21 May 1870


A weird tale comes from Windeyer which we can back against the ordinary ghost story for fearsomeness. The scene of the appearance is the Windeyer road at upper Meroo, and the story goes, and the relator of it positively asserts, that he was going to his work in the early hours of the morning when he became aware of a man ahead of him standing by the roadside.

Suddenly the figure, when the man had drawn quite close to it, leaped into the air and disappeared head first down an abandoned shaft about fifty yards distant. Usually a person who sees a ghost does not remain to make investigations, and the observer of this acrobatic spook was no exception to the rule, and he at once commenced to conquer space in the wild velocity of headlong flight, and later on with trembling nerves and quavering voice he recounted his thrilling experience to friends.

It is said that a ghost once reported to have been seen is seen again, and that is what happened the ghost of Upper Meroo, for another person riding past the haunted place after the shades of night had fallen alleges that he was pursued by an invisible being which asserted its presence by panting like an exhausted man, and he too, sought safety, in flight, and stood not upon the order of his going.

Published by Mudgee Guardian and North-Western Representative NSW Thu 11 Jun 1908


The following which is closely associated with a grog shanty, may be taken as a fair sample of the local productions. Between Pooncarie and Menindee a dilapidated hut is pointed out, through which the night wind moans and twists the tattered remnants of the bark roof into all sorts of uncanny shapes.

It is said that after dark this ruin is shunned with superstitious awe by all experienced swagsmen. And with good reason too. At that unholy hour when visitants from another sphere come to haunt the scene of crime in which they have taken a prominent part, and make their ghastly presence known to timorous mortals in the form of luminous skeletons, by creaking footfalls, cold breaths, and the silent opening of locked doors, the figure of a Chinaman is always to be seen swinging in the night breezes from one of the rafters.

Years ago this hut was in the occupation of a notorious shanty keeper, who sold more drink, and killed more customers than a licensed establishment less than a mile away on the other side of the river. The Chinaman belonged to the hotel, and through his agency a conviction was obtained against the shanty keeper, who, finding his occupation gone, shifted his location.

A few days after this the Chinaman was found hanging dead in the deserted hut. Was it murder in revenge, or suicide from remorse ? Who can tell? Suffice it, that precisely when all regulated clocks should strike twelve the restless spirit of the defunct Celestial assumes an apparently corporeal tenement, which, according to precedent, is dangled with mathematical precision from a particular rafter in a particular apartment of that ruined hut.

Published by The Riverine Grazier Hay, NSW Sat 23 Jun 1883
Title: Re: Unexplained Experiences
Post by: Headless2 on August 13, 2022, 02:12:19 AM

The Windorah area is the heart of the south-west ghost country. On Keeroongooloo Station, a phantom coach and four phantom horses race along the dusty roads at night. It was once a Cobb & Co. coach operating between Windorah and Mount Howitt. One dark night in the 1890s the horses bolted and the coach plunged down a steep bank into a fast-running creek. The driver and all the passengers drowned.

Thereafter station hands camped by the creek have been woken in the fright by their dogs barking and the unmistakable sound of clattering hooves, jingling harness and rattling coach. Time and again men have got out of their bedrolls to try to catch a glimpse of the phantom coach but nothing can be seen, only heard, as it
approaches, passes and recedes into the distance.

Tanbar, one of the great stations in the west, boasts two separate ghost stories‑ one vague and fragmented and the other supported by a wealth of evidence. The first concerns the Tarquoh Waterhole, 100 kilometres from Tanbar homestead. There, it is claimed, a stockman went out one night to catch a little wild pig for his dinner. A flash flood came down and he drowned. His ghost reputedly haunts the waterhole.

The second involves the disappearance of a young man named Rody Kennedy in 1922. Kennedy was working at the Gilpippie Outstation on Tanbar at the time of his disappearance. Suspicion fell on the outstation’s blacksmith, Joe, who was known to have threatened Kennedy. An inquest was held, but without a body there was insufficient evidence to charge anyone. The police file was stamped ‘Unsolved’ and set aside.

Stockmen on Tanbar refused to camp near the waterhole at the outstation after that and even those stationed there in the complex of sturdy buildings were afraid to go outside at night. All believed that Kennedy’s ghost was abroad and seeking revenge for his murder.

In the 1930s Doug McFarlane took over the management of Tanbar. Joe the blacksmith was still there and McFarlane asked him outright if he had murdered Rody Kennedy. ‘No I didn't,’ Joe insisted, ‘but I know who did.’ The blacksmith died without revealing any more of his secret and that might well have been the end of the affair but for a gruesome discovery Doug McFarlane made in 1956. When the old blacksmith’s shed at the outstation was being demolished, McFarlane uncovered a shallow trench beside the forge. In it was the smashed and burned skeleton of a man. Kennedy immediately sprang to mind.

After twenty years on Tanbar, discussing the murder with many people who had been there at the time and with the discovery of the body by the forge, McFarlane concluded that a much older man, whose young wife Kennedy had been paying too much attention to, had probably killed him and Joe, the blacksmith, had helped him by disposing of the body. To this day old stockmen on Tanbar will speak in whispers about the Gilpippie ghost and still avoid the waterhole at night.

Another of the great pastoral estates of the west is Hammond Downs east of Windorah, which also lays claim to two ghost stories. Hammond Downs homestead overlooks treacherous Cooper Creek and nearby are the graves of some of the creek’s many victims.

One is a young man named Easton who, like the Tarquoh stockman, was drowned in a flash flood. Easton’s mother, it is said, watched helplessly as her son and four others were swept away. His grave, marked by a modest wooden fence, stands on a sandhill near Easton's Channel, named in his memory. Dust storms bury it and floods inundate it but it survives as a grim reminder to others of the perils of Cooper Creek. Many claim to have seen Easton’s ghost in the form of a light circling around the fence.

Young Easton is not, however, the most famous ghost on Hammond Downs. That distinction belongs to Edward Hammond (1848-1889), son of the first Hammonds in the district. Ned was an accomplished horseman who went out alone one day to round up some horses. In what is called the Wallaroo paddock his own horse slipped in a clay pan, throwing him to the ground.

There are two versions of how Ned Hammond was found. The most likely tells of a search party finding him with a fractured spine trying to crawl home and his brother John riding 300 kilometres to fetch the nearest doctor but finding Ned dead on his return.

The other version claims Ned managed to remount and the horse found its own way home. Along the way Ned fell from the horse again but one boot remained caught in a stirrup. Ned was dragged many kilometres, his head hitting the stony ground until, by the time the horse limped into the homestead, it was dragging a headless corpse.

Ned Hammond was buried near the homestead beside his infant daughter, Mary, who had died eight years before, and some say that his ghost still rides the windy plain where he suffered his fatal fall. The ghostly horse and rider have been seen in the beam of car headlights and heard galloping around camps at night.

The story is passed from one generation of jackaroos to the next and the new chums are warned to watch out for the ‘old boss’. ‘How will we know him?’ they invariably ask. ‘Oh you’ll know him all right,’ the old hands reply, ‘he ain’t got no ‘ead!’

A curious twist to this story that is published here for the first time comes from a Charleville resident who for the past twenty-odd years has been working the opal mine established by the Hammonds about 100 kilometres south of Hammond Downs. From time to time the part-time miner and his family hear the sound of a horse galloping up to the hut they occupy at the mine and a rider dismounting, but when they go out to investigate there’s no rider, no horse and no tracks.

Could this also be the ghost of old Ned Hammond?
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