by John Pinkney
Among them was the woman who had startled her in the bedroom.
‘She introduced herself with what sounded like a hyphenated surname,’ Julie recalled. ‘We talked and she said she’d come to the parish as a bride - and that those had been her happiest days. She also told me that she and her husband used the upstairs bedroom as their parlour - and that he’d complained about having to carry the wood upstairs every night.
In 1996, after a long investigation, journalist Julie Holbery tentatively identified the ghost haunting the Christ Church vicarage in Birregurra Victoria. From the Bellarine Echo.
‘Later I tried to work out how she could possibly have made that appearance in the bedroom. The only explanation I could think of was that she’d received the centenary invitation and started thinking about the vicarage where she’d lived - then spoke to me in some kind of telepathic dream.’
In 1996 local journalist Julie Holbery produced a series of articles about the haunted vicarage for the Bellarine Echo. She identified the probable, principal ghost as a minister who had died four decades earlier:
Research shows that Rev. John Blennerhassett came to the vicarage in 1930 with his new wife Gwen. This was apparently the happiest time of their lives, before Rev. Blennerhassett suffered deteriorating health from diabetes until his death in 1956.
…In local folklore the minister appears to be the most likely ghostly resident of the vicarage. Mrs Judith Barclay (nee Blennerhassett) reveals that it was her mother who went back to Birregurra for the centenary celebrations in 1970, reinforcing Julie Flavel’s account of her vision and of the later meeting at the celebrations.
The old vicarage is now owned by retired graphic designer Frank Wood and his wife Ann. In July 2005 Frank told me, ‘If the ghost’s still here it hasn’t troubled us much. I can only recall one incident which seemed a bit strange. Once, after coming home I walked into a room and found the armchair rocking. I thought one of our cats might have jumped off the chair - but they refused to return to that room for the rest of the night.’
Builder Bob Dorrell and electrician Ron Hayward, who renovated for the Woods, had odder experiences. ‘I’d put a tool down and return to get it later and it would be gone,’ Ron said. ‘A can of Coca-Cola, which my wife had left on the bottom stair before we went out, had somehow migrated to the top of the landing when we returned. That happened twice - both times with nobody in the house.’
Reverend John Blennerhassett and his bride Gwen Moore, pictured on their wedding day, moved to the Birregurra vicarage in 1930. After the clergyman’s death in 1956, it became the hub of a haunting.
While measuring a rear room’s windows for flyscreens, Bob Dorrell wrote notes on a sheet of paper and placed it on the bed. When he turned back from the window the paper was gone. He walked downstairs to get replacement paper, only to find the original sheet lying on the grass beside his car. After he returned to the bedroom the door slammed behind him.
Bob said, ‘There was no wind and I’d been at the back of the vicarage. The car was parked at the front. How a sheet of paper could have made that journey without human help I can’t imagine. But I do know I wouldn’t go in there on my own again.’
Earwitness Report from a
Ghost-Ridden Rectory
For the first half of the 20th century St Matthew’s Rectory in Windsor, New South Wales, notoriously teemed with phantoms. Reverend Norman Jenkyn lived in the old building for 30 disturbing years. In retirement he described his experiences - slightly abridged here - for the Windsor and Richmond Gazette (3 March 1939):
…The old and historic Rectory of St Matthew’s stood in the shade of a widespreading Japanese elm and huge kurrajong trees.
When I took charge of the parish a few residents informed me that the Rectory was haunted. I was not perturbed by their statements (and) took up residence in the old house. I had not long to wait for the ghostly visit. One night at about 12.30, while lying in bed upstairs, I heard distinctly the drawer of the sideboard in the dining room below open, and then what seemed to me like the turning over of forks and spoons as if someone was searching for a particular one. I was alone in the house. I hastily dressed and in the dark crept stealthily down the long circular stairway leading to the dining room. I turned the torch on, but found no one.
Some four weeks later my housekeeper awoke at about one am and heard similar sounds and thinking that I was searching for a knife, called out, ‘You will find the cake knife in the right-hand drawer, Sir.’ She mentioned the incident to me the next morning (but) I was afraid to tell her (the truth). Had I informed her, she would have packed up and left without a day’s notice.
My sister came to stay with me, but after one night’s experience she decided to return to Sydney by the first train. She has not since been within five miles of the old building.
I employed a Japanese groom and cook. In the winter evenings after church he sat in the dining room before the fire. One evening, at about 11.30, he turned and said, ‘What’s that, Boss?’ I drew my breath and listened and quite distinctly we heard the strange sound of someone walking along the stone-flagged passageway at the back of the hall, and placing bricks in position. This went on for 20 minutes, after which we decided to investigate. We walked quickly into the dark passage, but again, no one was to be seen. Needless to say my groom gave me notice the following morning. After he left I still heard the strange sounds, but comforted myself with the thought, ‘They are only ghosts.’
On another occasion a strange incident occurred. I awoke between one and two o’clock and was alarmed at the sound of footsteps on the stairway leading from the hall below to my room upstairs. Knowing that there was no one else in the house I determined to wait until the intruder had reached the top step. Slowly, very slowly, he made the ascent, and stood at last on the landing. I rushed out, timid but determined to see it through, but alas saw nothing. ‘Ghosts, I suppose,’ I remarked, and went back to bed.
One more incident will help to show how true it was that the Rectory was haunted. On one occasion I went to spend the evening with friends. I locked the old house securely, but found on my return that the front doors were standing widely open. No other door had been tampered with and nothing else was disturbed. This happened time after time.
Norman Jenkyn concludes:
So I became accustomed to ghosts after 30 years’ contact, and today I regard them as great company. I am convinced that ghosts, an unseen cloud of witnesses, play an important part in the life of mankind.
