The events detailed by the Scrapbook reveal a wide array of addresses, revealing the extent of casual, family evening séances, and paranormal incidents across Christchurch, and beyond. Some former towns are now suburbs, such as Riccarton, while others, such as the sea off Lyttleton Harbour, are much harder to pinpoint. Yet they show the most striking aspect of these ‘spooks’: in real-life places, they offered tangibility to the Spiritualists, and empirical data to the Psychical Researchers.
Darkened Rooms, Twilight Streets
20 November 2023
HOW TO APPLY
A Cry in the Night
A sailing trip from Wellington to Lyttleton may not seem exactly locatable on a map of Christchurch, but a 1928 letter to the Society places the incident at least within the current boundaries of the greater geographical area. A sceptical professor based in the Cashmere hills, provoked by a series of ghost stories in evening papers, claimed to now believe in them, and wanted to share his own experience.
Many years ago, the professor was on one of his habitual yachting journeys, on the way back from Wellington to Lyttelton. His friends, displeased by the length of the route, tried to go in a dinghy, which did not speed things up. An oar snapped, and the anchor had to be dropped.
They heard a ‘fearful cry’ from cliff, a call for help, of murder, then, a scream, silence. They tried to investigate at once, but realised that they would have to first climb the cliff where crime occurred. Given their various jobs back in Christchurch, they could not stay for long, but felt the obligation to do something. The professor argued that was absurd to search - the dingy had only one working oar. If a crime was committed, it could be reported to police when they returned. The explanation was not deemed satisfactory; he was expected to do at least something. They were glad when breeze allowed them to head away again. On return, they reported to the police, to find that a murder had been reported the night before. After a week’s search, nothing was found to help. Years later, when relating experience to a judge, he found out the hidden story. Years before, living in the cliff, a Swede had stabbed an Englishman on the cliff.
It is easy to understand the sheer sense of liminality involved in the story. Just where the haunted cliff was cannot be ascertained, although Godley Head is a possible guess. But to be trapped in the night, stranded in the waters, a position doubly liminal, must have made the sense of the supernatural far more acute.
The Ghost Whistle
In March 1902, travelling into town on a Riccarton Coach, an anonymous gentleman passed a butcher, who became sick, was advised sea travel and took Union SS to Sydney. Later, he went to Oxford Terrace at 9 am. Shortly after leaving, an acquaintance said he heard the butcher whistling. That afternoon, news came that he had died at sea, early that morning. Apparently an incidental detail, these brief vignettes show a mundane circulation of spiritualist belief, travelling on the coat-tails of rumour, sowing curiosity into the popular imagination.
Four young men in Harewood heard rapping in a deserted house. Frank Wood and his 15 year old brother were delivering chaff at 10 o’clock. On entering the house, they heard a ‘methodical’ knocking, too loud for rats and too systematic, a sound which soon filled the house, but could not be located. Next week, some friends came to tackle the phenomena - Mr. Broadhurst, with William Cassels of Yaldhurst, together with the Tavendale brothers. They were armed with torches and a gun. The noise began on entering, and they saw a black, hooded figure 20 yards away. On calling, shot twice, the ghost faded - all ran. The next night, two reporters attempted to track down the ghost, which did not turn up, not even knocking.
Was this a hoax? If, in the reporting journalist’s commentary, it was supernatural, then it was a shame that there was no better chance to investigate. It was like the Fox Sisters case, straight out of the standard Spiritualist playbook. However, in treating it like an intruder, the young men had surely frightened the ghost away; a ‘shotgun was not ideal’. In an appeal to the ‘many students of the occult’ in Christchurch, Aquarius, the reporting journal, suggested that the men take up psychic contact in order to take part.
Races in Riccarton
Professor F.W. Haslem, Honourary Associate of the Society for Psychical Research in London, lived in a house on Yaldhurst Road, Riccarton. In 1897, His son, had a dream of a rider in a scarlet coat winning the Riccarton Races. Whimsically betting on a Scarlet Rider he saw that morning, he was told that horse and rider had no chances of winning, being so new. Nonetheless, while he was at university that day, the horse won, confirming his dream.
This is an interesting vignette, containing the air of practical accomplishment, and a barrage of letters affirming the verity of the case. There is, in addition, a fascinating religious juxtaposition; the professor’s house on Yaldhurst Road was subsequently bought to become the Catholic girls school Villa Maria; a house of occultism incorporated into an ecclesial establishment.
The Affair of the Blue Brooch
Violet Barker’s 1939 tale of ghostly relatives in a Sumner Séance is notable, showing characteristic social details of spiritualism, as well as general attitudes with which it was approached.
At a séance in Sumner, Barker watched a medium pointing to her, the spirit within saying that she was holding onto a blue enamel brooch with silver chasing. The medium also claimed to see an old woman, dowdily dressed in ‘old-fashioned’ (possibly Victorian or Edwardian) style, behind her. Not wearing a blue brooch, Barker was puled by the incident, until she saw such a brooch worn by a relative when visiting. On asking where the brooch came from, the relative told her about the inheritance; an aunt, who wore hopelessly outdated clothes, who loved birds and paid for a birdbath in the local park. At her next séance, Violet once more caught the attention of the medium. This time, the old woman was standing behind her, putting her antiquated bonnet on Violet’s head, laughing.
The story traces a number of important themes in Spiritualism. One is its compatibility with middle-class suburban culture, the milieu used to accessories and leisurely social visits; the class which had the time to dabble in an occultism which dovetailed with their own fancies. The other is its literary echoes; the playful title and hints of sleuthing suggest connections with Agatha Christie and the detective novels popular at the time. As with the story of the outlawed baronet, Spiritualism allowed literature to pervade life, and for individuals to explore narrative daydreaming in real life, however ambiguous their fancies might be.
Haunting in Harewood
Four young men in Harewood heard rapping in a deserted house. Frank Wood and his 15 year old brother were delivering chaff at 10 o’clock. On entering the house, they heard a ‘methodical’ knocking, too loud for rats and too systematic, a sound which soon filled the house, but could not be located. Next week, some friends came to tackle the phenomena - Mr. Broadhurst, with William Cassels of Yaldhurst, together with the Tavendale brothers. They were armed with torches and a gun. The noise began on entering, and they saw a black, hooded figure 20 yards away. On calling, shot twice, the ghost faded - all ran. The next night, two reporters attempted to track down the ghost, which did not turn up, not even knocking.
Was this a hoax? If, in the reporting journalist’s commentary, it was supernatural, then it was a shame that there was no better chance to investigate. It was like the Fox Sisters case, straight out of the standard Spiritualist playbook. However, in treating it like an intruder, the young men had surely frightened the ghost away; a ‘shotgun was not ideal’. In an appeal to the ‘many students of the occult’ in Christchurch, Aquarius, the reporting journal, suggested that the men take up psychic contact in order to take part.
An account with this title from the pen of Lovell-Smith places the activity in Richmond, although the speculation about activity in Linwood, together with the Psychic insurance story, offers a tantalising glimpse on the urban geography of Christchurch Spiritualism
Some Forgotten Ghosts
In 1921, Edgar MacLeod Lovell-Smith met an acquaintance, ‘Mr. W’, a retired accountant, while Arthur Conan Doyle was in Christchurch. There was some discussion, the acquaintance being very religious, and Lovell-Smith a ‘freethinker’. The anonymous gentleman was unsure of Conan Doyle’s teachings. Twenty-eight years ago, he had bought a house in Richmond and moved in with his family. Shortly after, his daughter saw a man with a sword, and ‘a hole’ in his side. A week later, an acquaintance of his had a man walk in front of him and vanished. While gardening, his spade struck a box, which he covered again. The box straddled the fence, partly on the property of the neighbours. The house was frequently vacant, and there were ‘Rumours of baby farming and worse.’ One morning, an agent and builder redecorated the house, and put it up for rent. These details were initially hazy, since Mr. W’s daughters were missionaries, so Lovell-Smith could not gather any further information. One evening, Mr. W introduced his daughters, who were asked about the sightings. They believed it to be a ghost, and their brothers had also seen it standing by the verandah. They remarked that they were used to such occurrences, a telling remark. Apart from a tangible location of the house on Stanmore Road, Lovell-Smith was unable to gather anything else. He theorised that the house was actually in Linwood, where many houses had mysterious reputations. Yet the sisters’ remark does say something about the attitude of believers toward ghosts; the lack of lurid fuss and acceptance of the details as an everyday occurrence suggest a ‘she’ll be right’ attitude, typically Kiwi, where one might least expect it.
Possibly the most striking aspect of these various geographical details is their combination of the everyday and the distant. A typical suburban street at twilight, with children watched over by a friendly ghost becomes a haunted twilight; the mundane charged with the sinister. The everyday coach into town on a typical afternoon brings the ‘spooks’ into broad daylight. There is, or course, the corresponding taste for the distant spaces; a small town on the northern outskirts of the city, the deserted forge, dark, deserted waters, where the characters are in a position of vulnerability. At this point, rational explanation drops away, the spirits come out to play. This explains the diversity of length to the stories, ranging from brief fragments to detailed accounts of perceived sights. These incidents, from inner suburbs to outer spots, show the common reactions and mentalities in Christchurch.
Scrapbook of the Christchurch Psychical Research Society Inc., Macmillan Brown Library, University of Canterbury Manuscript 165, 80-84
