A rave from the grave as a cause célèbre haunting is unearthed from an old edition of ‘The Times’. Quoted here verbatim, from an original report in the ‘Hull Packet’, this is a fascinating record of Victorian reportage, dated October 25, 1852.
“SPIRIT RAPPINGS” AT HULL. – A marvellous sensation has been created in our town within the last few days by the discovery that a ghost has taken up its quarters, evidently for the winter season, in a secluded dwelling on the Anlaby-road, where it is likely to obtain as great a notoriety as the celebrated Cock-lane ghost [which took place in Smithfield, London, 110 years previously].
Some little distance beyond the end of Walker-street and Great Thornton-street, on the lefthand side of the Anlaby-road, is a quiet lonely lane, known by the name of Wellington-lane, at the bottom of which stands the ‘haunted house’, a respectable-looking tenement, occupied by an elderly bedridden dame, her son-in-law, and daughter, and a female domestic. It seems that about a month agao the imnates were startled in the stillness of the night by a sharp sudden knocking on the walls of the room from some invisible hand. At first no notice was taken of this, but to their great dismay, at irregular intervals, the same strange noise was repeated, a distinct knocking upon the wall in the very apartment in which they sat, and when no visible hand was raised to strike.
For four successive weeks the noise was repeated, until the inmates grew seriously apprehensive that some supernatural agency was at work. Their fears were soon communicated to the neighbours, and speedily reached the public ear. The love of the marvellous is the most powerful and easily raised passion of the mind, and on Wednesday not fewer than 1,000 persons visited the spot, lingering in the neighbourhood and and straining their ears to catch the sound of the modest ghost, who now and then indulges them with a muffled rap, tap, tap. For our own part we are really apprehensive of his ghostship’s knuckles, which must suffer materially from such constant exercise.
Yesterday night, although it was dull, drizzly, and cold, crowd upon crowd besieged the spot, standing, in the spite of cold and wet, 100 yards from the haunted house, anxiously discussing the nature and object of the ghost’s visit, and patiently waiting to learn from the police, or those who were fortunate enough to get near the house, “when it had knocked last”. One or two policemen have been stationed in the house, with a view of detecting the cause; and although it is seriously affirmed that the strange noise is still heard at intervals, it baffles all ingenuity, even on the part of the vigilant detectives, to discover whence it proceeds. A portion of the roof, we understand, has been removed, without affording any clue.
The noise is not confined to any one place, but alternatively pervades different parts of the house. Sometimes it is a dull, heavy sound, and sometimes like a sort of scratch. Yesterday, 2,000 or 3,000 persons visited the spot, many of whom lingered until nearly midnight, a detachment of police being present to preserve order. It is impossible to describe the sensation which has been created by the discovery of this affair, and credulity could hardly be carried further. The police declare that many would actually remain by the door of the house the whole of the night if they would only permit them.
