Built in 1680 and once described as "the prettiest house in Ulster",
Springhill stands as a proud testimony to successive generations of the
Lenox-Conyngham family whose home it was for close on 300 years.
In 1816, George Lenox-Conyngham committed suicide, leaving his second
wife Olivia to care for their children. She was ever after haunted by
remorse at her inability to prevent his death, and her anguish appears
to have followed her beyond the grave, for Olivia's ghost often appears
at the house.
She was seen in the early 20th century when the last generation of
Lenox-Conyngham children to live at the property were sleeping one
night, and their nursemaid awoke to find her gazing intently at the
youngsters, as though checking the well being of each one of them in
turn. Today, her phantom still wanders the peaceful corridors of her
old home. She exudes an aura of weary detachment and is generally
accepted as little more than the oldest resident of this splendid old
house.
DOBBINS INN HOTEL--Carrickfergus, County Antrim
This hotel is the haunt of a ghostly lady whose name in life was
Elizabeth, but who has long been known as "Maud". She lived in the 17th
century, when the property was home to successive Mayors of
Carrickfergus, one of whom, a member of the Dobbin family, was her
husband.
Elizabeth is said to have become romantically involved with a soldier
from nearby Carrickfergus Castle, whom tradition remembers simply as
"button cap". At night, she would creep through a tunnel that linked
the house and castle to meet with him. On discovering her infidelity,
her husband murdered her as she entered the tunnel en route to an
illicit liaison. Making his way to the castle, he then rushed upon the
astonished "button cap" and beheaded him.
The ghost of Elizabeth Dobbin has wandered the building ever since, and
staff have grown accustomed to her invisible shade gliding past them on
her sorrowful quest to be reunited with her lover.
CASTLE LESLIE--Glaslough, Monaghan
Basking amidst 1,000 acres of stunning scenery, the castle has been
home to the exquisitely eccentric Leslie family for three hundred
years. Today, the castle opens its doors to paying guests who find
themselves transported in time to a bygone era. The Leslie family has,
over the generations, played hosts to the likes of Dean Swift, W.B.
Yeats, Sir John Betjeman and Mick Jagger.
The building that greets you today dates from 1878, and every one of
its 14 bedrooms has a tale to tell. The Red Room is haunted by Norman
Leslie who was killed in action in 1914 and whose mother, Lady
Marjorie, awoke here one night to find his ghost standing by the chest
of drawers, surrounded by a "cloud of light". Norman�s spirit was
leafing through some letters and seemed to be seeking one in
particular. Sitting up, she asked him "Why Norman - what are you doing
here?" whereupon he turned to her, smiled and faded away.
Time stands still at Castle Leslie, and its ambience is such that you
find yourself falling wholeheartedly under the spell of a family whose
past eccentricities are a sheer joy to discover. Strange occurrences,
such as mysterious grey figures twisting their way along atmospheric
corridors and bells ringing of their own accord, seem positively
mundane when pitted against the escapades of generations of Leslie's!
KILLUA CASTLE--Killua, Westmeath
Killua Castle is a magnificent, romantic ruin that was once the seat of
the Chapman family. Hailing originally from Leicester, England, they
obtained vast swathes of land in Ireland in the 16th century, thanks
largely to the patronage of their famous cousin, Sir Walter Raleigh.
However, it was a later family member, Benjamin, who, having fought as
a captain in Cromwell's army, was awarded the confiscated lands of the
Knights Hospitallers of St John at Killua. The present structure of
Killua Castle was built around 1780, although the conversion that
created the rambling Gothic fantasy, the ruin of which greets the
visitor today, was carried out in 1830.The last of the family line to
be associated with the castle was Thomas Chapman, born in 1848, who
married a girl from the Rochford family by whom he had four children.
The marriage was not a happy one, due largely to his wife's love of
travel and her long absences from home. Tiring of the situation, Thomas
Chapman finally abandoned his home, his wife, his family and his name
to live with his mistress, Sarah Dunner, in Wales, where he adopted the
name Thomas Lawrence. They had seven children, one of whom, Thomas
Edward Lawrence, would become the enigmatic and intriguing "Lawrence of
Arabia".
A strange stillness hangs over this hollow castellated ruin today. The
sheer number of dark empty window frames that greet your approach is
enough to elicit cold shivers of an uncanny nature. The hollow rooms of
the crumbling interior, where a time-worn stairway clings desperately
to the ivy-clad walls, radiate a chilling feeling of melancholy, and
you find yourself in constant fear of a chance encounter with the
nebulous wraith of one of the castle's bygones residents.
No one is certain of the identity, or even the gender, of the white
spectre, whose shimmering shade has been seen wandering amongst the
ruins at night. Suffice it to say that those who encounter it waste
little time bothering to find out. Some people think that 'it' is a
'he', or to be precise, an 18th century steward of the castle who,
having turned to drink, was consumed with the terrors and tremors of
dipsomania, and in despair drowned himself in the lake in the castle
grounds.
However, other people voice the belief that the ghost is that of a
daughter of the house who long ago met with a tragic accident, or was
deserted by a feckless lover, or was subject to any one of the numerous
sorrowful array of 'white ladies' to drift slowly across the pages of
folklore and legend the world over.
CHARLES FORT--Kinsale, Cork
Constructed in the late 17th century on the site of an earlier coastal
fortification, this star-shaped fortress, with its five bastions and
two surviving brick sentry boxes, straddles a sea swept rocky
trajectory. Not long after the completion of the fort Colonel Warrender
became its commanding officer. He was a strict authoritarian who
believed in a rigorous regime of discipline and had little sympathy for
any man who stinted or faltered at his duties. His daughter, Wilful, a
vivacious and beautiful girl, fell in love with Sir Trevor Ashurst, who
was an officer at the fort, and the two were duly married. At sunset on
the day of their wedding, the newly married couple were strolling along
the battlements when the bride noticed some flowers growing on the rock
beneath and commented on their beauty. A sentry agreed to climb down
and pick them for her on the condition that her husband would take his
place on duty. Sir Trevor agreed, donned the soldier�s greatcoat, took
his musket and entered the sentry box, whilst its original occupant
began the perilous descent to the rocks below. It had been a long day,
and no sooner had Ashurst sat down than he fell fast asleep. Just then,
Colonel Warrender began his routine inspection of the fort's sentry
boxes. He was furious to find a guardsman asleep on duty and, drawing
his pistol, shot the man through the heart. As the sentry fell to the
ground dead, his coat came open and the Colonel saw that he had killed
his own son-in-law. When Wilful learnt of her husband�s death she was
inconsolable and, letting out a howl of despair, raced to the
battlements, from which she threw herself to her death. The sight of
her body proved too much for Colonel Warrender and, placing his pistol
against his head, he pulled the trigger and blew out his brains.
Three tragic deaths on a day that should have been a celebration have,
inevitably, left their mark upon the ether of this casemated, windswept
monument. It is the ghost of Wilful Warrender who haunts the garrison.
Wearing a flowing white dress, she drifts in mournful despair, either
around the ramparts or up and down the stairs of the stronghold. Those
who encounter her silent wraith describe her as very beautiful but very
pale. She passes by them, her dark eyes fixed on some distant
objective. She pays them no heed, and soldiers used to speak of their
alarm at seeing her pass straight through locked doors, whilst others
complained of being pushed down the stairs by an unseen hand,
presumably hers.
DUN AN OIR--(OR FORT DEL ORO)--Dingle Peninsula, Kerry
During the 16th century, Dingle became a significant trading port and
developed a very strong connection with Spain. On 15th July 1579,
Charles V of Spain sent an expeditionary force to Dingle under the
leadership of James Fitzmaurice-Fitzgerald, a cousin of the peninsula's
powerful overlord, Gerat, Sixteenth Earl of Desmond. Shortly after
landing, Fitzmaurice-Fitzgerald was ambushed and killed in a skirmish
with the Burkes of Limerick. Although the Earl of Desmond had promised
to help his kinsman and his contingent, he was also anxious not to
alienate Queen Elizabeth, so he sent word to her forces about the
possible threat. The expedition resulted in failure for the Spanish,
and after a few days they left Dingle and sailed round the coast, where
they landed at Ferreters� Cove. On the headland they built a fort, the
Fort Del Oro, or Dun an Oir as it is known in Gaelic, as a base for
operations against England. In November 1580 an English force,
commanded by Lord Grey de Wilton, besieged the fort. The garrison had
again hoped for promised assistance from the Earl of Desmond but none
was sent, and finally the expeditionaries were battered into
submission. When the Spanish set down their arms to surrender, the
English troops massacred them in cold blood and left their corpses in
heaps, or cast them into the sea to be washed away. On the anniversary
of the dreadful slaughter people in the locality have often heard
agonised voices crying in Spanish, and smelled the terrible stench of
rotting flesh carried upon the breezes around this wild spot.
BALLYNACARRIGA CASTLE--Dunmanway, Cork
The Irish name of this four-storey tower is Beal na Carraige, meaning
"the mouth or passage of rock". It is perched upon a rocky prominence
and overlooks the waters of Ballynacarriga Lough. An unusual feature of
its crumbling interior is the number of important stone carvings that
can be seen around the walls of what was the third floor. On one window
arch is a depiction of Christ on the cross together with two thieves,
one on each side of him, whilst nearby are carved a crown of thorns, a
hammer and a heart pierced with two swords. One window contains the
initials R.M.C.C. together with the date 1585. These are believed to be
the initials of Randal Murlihy and his wife, Catherine Cullinane, plus
the date when the building was erected. Opposite is the carved figure
of a woman with five roses, which local tradition claims represents
Catherine Cullinane and her five children, but which is more likely to
depict the Blessed Virgin.
The roof and parapets of the castle were long ago removed by a garrison
of Cromwell's troops who had occupied the fortress for a time and who,
as was their custom, took down the overhanging parapets in order to
render the building defenceless. But enough of the fortification
remains to provide the visitor with a good impression of what it was
like to live in a medieval castle. It was an age when belief in a
darker side of nature had a firm grip on the imagination, and it was
well known that harmful spirits roamed night, intent on inflicting
injury on humans that chanced to cross their path.
Built into the thickness of the second floor wall there is a mural
gallery which leads the intrepid visitor to the garderobe, or lavatory,
which stands over a chute known as "Moll the Pooka's Hole". A "Pooka"
was the most feared of all the creatures that prowled the night. They
were strange and thoroughly evil beings, with male heads and the body
of a goat, horse or dog. They could fly short distances, although they
had no wings, were extremely ugly and ill-tempered, and were to be
avoided at all costs. They ran in packs, and their sole desire was to
inflict as much harm as possible upon defenceless humans, they caused
crops to fail, children to die suddenly and, worst of all, they stole
newborn babies. Irish peasants would ascribe accidental falls to the
malign influence of a pooka and ruined or wrecked castles were often
associated with them - the foul smelling chute of a garderobe being the
ideal portal by which these creatures could gain access and wreak their
devilish mayhem upon the inhabitants.
For the believer no proof is necessary, for the non-believer no proof is
possible (Stewart Chase 1929)
