The Cormorant Street Ghost — British Columbia Chronicles

Communities throughout British Columbia will shudder in mock terror tonight as, once again, ghosts and goblins haunt the streets for another brief Halloween.

Victorians are perhaps fortunate. None of them is old enough to have lived through a solid, spine-tingling week when readers of the Colonist thrilled to the eerie rattling and ramblings of a not-so-innocuous phantom, and marvelled at hints of a hidden murder...

This week’s Chronicle varies in that I’m going to let readers follow this incredible story, day by day, word by word, as did Colonist readers, 138 years ago. The first account appeared on August 5, 1886:

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As the mystery deepened, the homeowners became convinced that their old house held the secret to a murder. —*Pixabay*

HAUNTED!

The Strange and Unaccountable Sounds Heard in a House on Cormorant Street.

The Shade of a Mortal Appears at Intervals and Suggests the Existence of a Hidden Crime.

About four months ago, a married couple rented a “large and commodious house” on Cormorant Street, and furnished it with the intention of letting apartments. They had not long been installed in their new quarters before they began to be

Disturbed at Night By Peculiar Sounds

proceeding from the inside of the house. Doors which had been fast locked would bang in the middle of the night, and being inspected, would be seen to be secure.

Retiring to rest, the inmates would be disturbed a moment later by a repetition of the same sounds, and a further quest would fail to reveal anything. Then, again, foot-steps walking through the hall and different rooms of the house were occasionally heard, not only at night, but in the daytime.

The sounds and noises, though frequent, were not then, however, regular; but this defect, or whatever it may be called, has since been entirely remedied, for, since two weeks ago and up to the present time, only one night has passed without a manifestation of some kind being given.

The most frequently repeated experience is for the inmates—comprising sometimes the tenants, sometimes the lodgers, and occasionally both—to suddenly hear footsteps, apparently those of a man, upon the front stoop. The door is then seemingly opened

And Closed With a Bang That Shakes the House.

before anyone can [go into] the hall to see if the process actually takes place or the sounds only—but not too late to hear the footsteps pass by and down the hall—though nothing is visible. The [foot]steps always die away about 12 feet from the door at the rear end of the hall, and all remains quiet for perhaps half an hour, when the same thing again takes place. This is, to say the least, not pleasant, but it is, also, not all.

A few Nights Ago,

when the time was drawing towards morning, the mistress of the house was aroused by a breeze such as would be produced by a fanning motion, and in awakening, did so with the impression that hands had been quietly laid upon her face. Though not of a nervous temperament, she was naturally somewhat disturbed, and her agitation was not allayed on hearing a number of deliberate taps on the wall or window.

Hastily attiring herself, she knocked at the room door of the then only other person in the house and requested him to dress himself. Upon [his] doing so, they adjourned to the sitting room, but had hardly entered when the

The hapless occupants of the house could hardly be blamed for thinking that it was haunted by a restless spirit. But whose? And was it trying to tell them something?

Click of a Pistol

or what seemed like it—proceeding from the bedroom, where a light had been left burning, was distinctly heard by both, which made their flesh creep, as it would that of any brave person. Several lodgers, frightened to stay, have left the house; and among their number was one who shared in a still more striking experience. The landlady was in the kitchen when she suddenly

Became Conscious That Someone Was Standing Behind Her

and half turning, saw a tall man, apparently about 36 or 38 years of age, with shoulders slightly bent, dark hair brushed back from his forehead which narrowed someone as it advanced, face shaven excepting the moustaches, and eyes, whose colour she could not detect, wearing a look that she describes as “startled”.

Upon looking directly at it, it would vanish, only, however, to appear again. Believing herself the victim of an excited imagination, she refrained from relating her experience. But, that night, the noises and footsteps doubled in intensity. The lodger, who had also been awakened, arose and came into the hall, pale as a sheet, where he was shortly after joined by the landlady.

With a strange expression on his face, he asked her if she had seen anybody besides himself in the house that night, and upon being questioned, he stated that as he came out of his room into the hall

He Saw the Figure of a Man Standing in the Hall

near the spot where the footsteps generally cease, and, upon describing the appearance, the landlady found that it tallied with the vision she herself had witnessed.

Last Saturday during the day as well as the evening, the door rattled and slammed, and footsteps passed through the hall in rapid succession—that is to say, the whole process was frequently repeated, but in such a vigorous matter as to suggest that the uncanny visitant was getting impatient.

Those sounds were heard by the husband and wife and two others, but nothing could be detected, and, and in spite of the utmost vigilance, the sound of a footstep at the front door—even to the jar of the boot against the threshold—the grasping, opening, and slamming of the door, and the sound of heavy walking in the passage continued to be heard; and so on throughout the night.

On this day, for the first time, the sound had come to the back door which responsively shook and banged, while the footsteps of the restless walker were again heard in the hall. On Sunday last, all was quiet until the evening

When the Sounds Recommenced

with such loudness as to awaken all in the house—and keep them awake, too.

On Monday afternoon, a lady visitor was sitting in the parlour when the same thing happened again. A step was heard outside—the front door seemed to open and shut—and, not wishing to meet the husband until she should be introduced to him by the wife, the lady rose from her seat, passed through the bedroom, kitchen, and into the wash-house where her hostess was, the steps proceeding down the hall, but in this case the walker was heard to stagger as though wounded—or drunk. On the bedroom floor

Is A Large Stain

of what may, or may not, be blood. No theory of the mystery is advanced, and we merely relate what have been vouched for as actual occurrences. As a proof that the tenants are at least in earnest, it may be mentioned that they have given notice to leave what they may be excused for regarding as a haunted house.

August 7. Haunted. On the night of the narration of the ghostly mystery a Colonist reporter and friend passed the night in the haunted house and heard—nothing.

August 8. MYSTERIOUS NOISES IN HOUSES. An Explanation that Seems Reasonable.

In view of the recent mysterious affair at the haunted house on Cormorant Street in this city, the late experience of one of the members of an investigating committee is interesting.

He is a professor at the University of Pennsylvania and resides in the suburbs of Philadelphia. At a certain hour each day, one of the windows of his house rattles quite violently, and this entirely independent of wind or weather.

Naturally, the gentleman was considerably puzzled at the phenomenon, for while there was was absolutely no visible cause apparent, each day brought this manifestation of activity on the part of his otherwise quiet window.

He determined to discover the cause, and thought at once of the railroad that ran by a short distance from his home.

He found, however, that no trains were in the vicinity at that time of day. The recurrence of the noise at precisely the same hour so far impressed him with the belief that it must have a connexion with a well-observed time-table, that he pushed his investigation further, and included another railroad several miles distance.

On comparing his observations with the time schedule, the significant fact was discovered that a heavy train passed the spot within two or three miles of the house at about the same time that the windows rattled. Following this clue, he examined the rock foundations, and found that an out cropping ledge which received the full force of the train vibrations came to an end immediately under his window.

This gave a satisfactory explanation of a phenomenon which, in the hands of a less investigative person, would have been sufficient foundation for a mild ghost story.

August 11. The Haunted House. What an Investigating Committee Did and What a Spiritual Medium Saw.

The Cormorant Street house which has a reputation of being haunted was the theatre of rather an exciting scene on Monday night when Mr. Colby, the trance medium, undertook to unravel the

Deep and Dark Mystery

on, over and around the place. They were courteously received by the inmates and invited to enter. In response to inquiries, the lady of the house mentioned the various circumstances which had led her up to the belief that the house is the abode of a spirit who is so anxious to explain to mortals the “deep damnation of his taking off,” that he cannot rest in his grave until justice has been meted out to his slayer.

While the party conversed, three very audible raps were heard on the wall;

his friends were invited into a room and seated themselves. Then the lights were turned down very low and all sat with bated breath to await

The appearance of the spirit.

For several minutes no sign was made, and those present had begun to think that spirits were not in season, when suddenly Mr. Colby exhibited symptoms of being controlled. These symptoms at first took the form of convulsive twitching of the arms and legs and deep drawn sighs. Then the spirit began to speak through the medium, whose eyes were tightly closed.

He first described himself as a man 5 feet 8 inches tall, slightly stooped at the shoulders, with a broad, high forehead on which there was a deep scar. His hair black, lightly flecked with grey, his face care-worn and troubled; one hand crippled and minus the third finger. The initials of his name were

“H.G.”

but his full name he would not give—at present. He said he came into that house many years ago, one evening after dark and hung his hat and overcoat on the hat rack. He then passed along the dark hall towards his room when he was suddenly stabbed to the heart and died almost instantly.

His body was carried outside and buried near the house at first; but it was afterwards dug up and burned.

After having relieved his mind of [this] rare piece of information the inhabitant from the other world passed out of the medium's body and fled—no one new whither—leaving Mr. Colby in a very limp and demoralized condition, indeed.

The party sat for some time longer; and although they heard three raps there was no further demonstration of an alarming character and the committee adjourned at half-past one o'clock in the morning, no wiser, apparently, than when they entered the house.

August 13. The Haunted House. – Hitherto, in alluding to the “Haunted House” we, having no experience of our own in such matters, related what was given as that of others. We venture to suggest that a ghost who will haunt the inmates of a household for four solid months as though he wanted to “say something,” and then, when an opportunity is furnished, merely announces his initials as “H.G.,” and skips off, is a very frivolous shade, and unworthy the name of being a genuine respectful respectable spirit.

August 18. A Prosaic Closing to a Romantic Episode. Bailey the Ghost. Alas for the marvellous, another weird mystery has been rudely dispelled, and lovers of the supernatural now have one more idol dashed to the ground, for—oh! it is so hard to say it—the Cormorant Street ghost has fled!

It was not a tall man with dark hair and minus the first two joints of the third finger of his right hand. It was not a shade, that for four months followed with a persistence little short of devotion, inmates of the haunted house and made no sign.

It was not a spirit, who, when at last adjured to speak, replied with most unsightly levity that his initials were “H.G.,” and departed, leaving it an open question as to whether his name was Hot Goose.

No; the name of the ghost—the real ghost—is Bailey—Doc Bailey—“the celebrated medium” of the day, who advertised that between the hours of 2:00 p.m. and 4:00 p.m., and 7:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m., he was willing to impart spiritual information respecting departed grandmothers or other extinct members of extant families.

Bailey was Deep—

Bailey had laid his plans well; and Bailey taps and Bailey raps were heard in the haunted house morning, noon and night. Even the poultry in the backyard seemed to be in league with Bailey; for being early risers the pickings and pattering on the veranda walk in the rear where readily interpreted by agitated minds as spirit warnings to be prepared.

The rooster, preliminary to crowing, was want, as roosters are, to flap its wings three times; and at the mysterious sounds recumbent heads would be buried in fear beneath friendly sheets.

But Bailey, working his point, waited not on their fears, and continued the manifestations—heard what they heard—saw what they imagined they saw—and when public interest was thoroughly awakened and gaping crowds had commenced to gather around the house at twilight, he burst into full bloom as

“The Celebrated Medium,”

ready to exchange unlimited cheek for ready cash, and live upon public credulity. But the stars were not propitious; for it is reported that the professor upon the first night upon which he commenced to sit was only called upon by two small boys at 50 cents apiece, whose money he kept, whose ears he boxed, and sent them about their business.

Coming to the conclusion that there was nothing in it to speak of, and having “tapped” his acquaintances to the fullest extent, he “spirited” himself away on the [Puget] Sound steamer to manifest elsewhere his efforts to live without working. At this early stage two people in Victoria

Find It Hard To Forgive Him,

—one, the worthy tenant, who, in search of murder remains, has dug all over his backyard until it looks like a plowed field, and the other a gentleman whose professional clairvoyancy sent him into an apparent epileptic attack, interspersed with heavy and very impressive sighs, at the conclusion of which pantomime he described the appearance of the flippant ghost, “H.G.,” whose modesty (or the medium’s caution) prevented him from being more explicit.

Thus the tale ends. And when in future any reader is asked to explain the mystery of the Cormorant Street ghost let him point significantly over his shoulder and say, “Bailey.”

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