Ghost Stories!

Many years ago there died on the estate of Sundshult, in the parish of Nafverstad, a child of illegitimate birth, which, because of this, was not christened and could not be accorded Christian burial, or a place in heaven, and whose spirit, therefore, was left to wander the earth, disturbing the rest and making night uncomfortable for the people of the neighborhood.

One time, just before Christmas, the parish shoemaker, on his rounds, was detained at the house of a patron, and, having much work before him, he was still sewing late into the night, when he was unexpectedly startled from his employment by a little child appearing before him, which said, "Why do you sit there? Move aside."

"For what?" asked the shoemaker.

"Because I wish to dance," said the specter.

"Dance away, then!" said the shoemaker.

When the child had danced some time, it disappeared, but returned soon and said, "I will dance again, and I'll dance your light out for you."

"No," said the shoemaker, "let the light alone. But who are you that you are here in this manner?"

"I live under the lower stone of the steps to the porch."

"Who put you there?" asked the shoemaker.

"Watch when it dawns, and you will see my mother coming, wearing a red cap. But help me out of this, and I'll never dance again."

This the shoemaker promised to do, and the specter vanished.

The next day a servant girl from the neighboring estate came, who wore upon her head a red handkerchief. Digging was begun under the designated step, and in time the skeleton of a child was found, encased in a wooden tub. The body was that day taken to the churchyard, and the mother, who had destroyed her child, turned over to the authorities. Since then the child specter has danced no more.

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Source: Herman Hofberg, Swedish Fairy Tales, translated by W. H. Myers (Chicago, W. B. Conkey Company, 1893), pp. 105-106.

A certain boy and girl, whose names this tale telleth not, once lived near a church. The boy being mischievously inclined, was in the habit of trying to frighten the girl in a variety of ways, till she became at last so accustomed to his tricks, that she ceased to care for anything whatever, putting down everything strange that she saw and heard to the boy's mischief.

One washing-day, the girl was sent by her mother to fetch home the linen, which had been spread to dry in the churchyard. When she had nearly filled her basket, she happened to look up, and saw sitting on a tomb near her a figure dressed in white from head to foot, but was not the least alarmed, believing it to be the boy playing her, as usual, a trick. So she ran up to it, and pulling its cap off said, "You shall not frighten me, this time."

Then when she had finished collecting the linen she went home. But, to her astonishment -- for he could not have reached home before her without her seeing him -- the boy was the first person who greeted her on her arrival at the cottage.

Among the linen, too, when it was sorted, was found a moldy white cap, which appeared to be nobody's property, and which was half full of earth.

The next morning the ghost (for it was a ghost that the girl had seen) was found sitting with no cap upon its head, upon the same tombstone as the evening before. And as nobody had the courage to address it, or knew in the least how to get rid of it, they sent into the neighboring village for advice.

An old man declared that the only way to avoid some general calamity, was for the little girl to replace on the ghost's head the cap she had seized from it, in the presence of many people, all of whom were to be perfectly silent. So a crowd collected in the churchyard, and the little girl, going forward, half afraid, with the cap, placed it upon the ghost's head, saying, "Are you satisfied now?"

But the ghost, raising its hand, gave her a fearful blow, and said, "Yes, but are you now satisfied?"

The little girl fell down dead, and at the same instant the ghost sank into the grave upon which it had been sitting, and was no more seen.

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Source: Jón Arnason, Icelandic Legends, translated by George E. J. Powell and Eiríkur Magnússon (London: Richard Bentley, 1864), pp. 157-158.

A young woman who lived on a farm became pregnant. After giving birth to the child she set it out to die of exposure, not an uncommon act in this country before it became punishable by severe penalties. Now one day it happened that the young woman was invited to a celebration. However, she had no good clothes, so she stayed at home in a sour mood. That evening, while milking the ewes in the fold, she complained aloud that for the want of a proper dress she could not go to the celebration. She had scarcely spoken when she heard the following song:

Mother mine, in the fold
You need not be so sad.
You can wear my castoff rags
To the dance tonight.

The young woman who had let her child die of exposure thought that she recognized its voice. She took such a fright that she lost her mind and remained insane the rest of her life.

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Source: Retold from Jón Arnason, Íslenzkar þjóðsögur og æfintýri (2 vols., Leipzig, 1862, 1864).

In the village of Hammer near Czernikowo many years ago there lived a young married couple. The wife loved to eat liver and could not live if she didn't eat a liver every day. One day she sent her husband once again to town to fetch a liver. However, in Czernikowo the husband met a group of young merrymakers and went with them to a tavern, where he drank away all his money.

Sad, and without the liver, he made his way homeward. It was late. On his way he had to go through a great forest. Here he met a hunter, who asked him why he was so sad. The man told him everything, upon which the hunter said, "In the middle of the forest there is a clearing with a gallows, upon which a number of dead bodies are hanging. Take one of them down, cut out his liver, and give it to your wife. Tell her it is beef liver."

The man did just that.

When he arrived home his wife was at first angry because he had been away so long, but she calmed down as soon as she saw the liver, and began frying it. The man lay down and went to sleep.

Suddenly a white figure appeared at the window, and it cried into the room, "Everyone is asleep. The dogs are keeping watch in the yard. And you are standing there frying my liver."

The man was terrified, and in his fear he cried out to his wife that she should come to bed. But the wife wanted first to dip a little piece of bread into the gravy and taste it.

Meanwhile, the phantom, a white skeleton, had already entered the house, always calling out the same words again and again.

The woman was not afraid, but asked the ghost, "Now, my little fellow, what happened to your flesh?"

The ghost replied, "The ravens ate it, and the wind blew it away."

Then the woman asked, "Now, my little fellow, what happened to your eyes and ears?"

And the ghost answered, "The ravens ate them, and the wind blew them away."

The woman asked, "Now, my little fellow, what happened to your liver?"

Then the ghost cried out, "You have it!" And with that he seized the woman and strangled her to death.

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Source: Otto Knoop, "Die kleine Geschichte," Ostmärkische Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa in Posen: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 85, p. 181-182.

Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2000.

In Greek mythology, Prometheus was a Titan known for his wily intelligence, who stole fire from Zeus and gave it to mortals for their use. He was then eternally punished for his crime by Zeus by being chained to a rock where a vulture (or an eagle) would peck out his liver, only to be regenerated, due to his immortality, by night. Years later the Greek hero Heracles would shoot the vulture (or eagle) and free Prometheus from his chains. Curiously, the liver is the only human internal organ that actually can regenerate itself to a significant extent; this characteristic may have already been known to the Greeks due to survived injuries in battle.

Once upon a time there was a girl called Saddaedda, who was crazy. One day, when her mother had gone into the country and she was left alone in the house, she went into a church where the funeral service was being read over the body of a rich lady. The girl hid herself in the confessional. No one knew she was there. So, when the other people had gone, she was left alone with the corpse. It was dressed out in a rose-colored robe and everything else becoming, and it had earrings in its ears and rings on its fingers. These the girl took off, and then she began to undress the body. When she came to the stockings she drew off one easily, but at the other she had to pull so hard that at last the leg came off with it. Saddaedda took the leg, carried it to her lonely home, and locked it up in a box. At night came the dead lady and knocked at the door.

"Who's there?" said the girl.

"It is I," answered the corpse. "Give me back my leg and stocking!"

But Saddaedda paid no heed to the request. Next day she prepared a feast and invited some of her playfellows to spend the night with her. They came, feasted, and went to sleep. At midnight the dead woman began to knock at the door and to repeat last night's request. Saddaedda took no notice of the noise, but her companions, whom it awoke, were horrified, and as soon as they could, they ran away. On the third night just the same happened. On the fourth she could persuade only one girl to keep her company.

On the fifth she was left entirely alone. The corpse came, forced open the door, strode up to Saddaedda's bed, and strangled her. Then the dead woman opened the box, took out her leg and stocking, and carried them off with her to her grave.

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Source: Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1885), no. 73, p. 238.

As was previously the custom, a woman made her own burial dress while she was still living. After she died, her daughter-in-law thought that a lesser dress would do just as well. Therefore she kept the burial dress for herself and dressed the dead woman in an old worn-out one. However, the old woman had scarcely been buried when in the evening a voice was heard in the parlor saying, "I want to have my dress." This happened every evening, and did not stop until the right dress was laid on the grave.

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Source: Karl Bartsch, "Das Todtenhemd," Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), v. 1, no. 294, pp. 227-228.

Bartsch's source: F. Haase, a teacher from Rostock.

An old lady had been to the church in the sands of Perranzabuloe. She found, amidst the numerous remains of mortality, some very good teeth. She pocketed these, and at night placed them on her dressing table before getting into bed. She slept, but was at length disturbed by someone calling out, "Give me my teeth. Give me my teeth."

At first, the lady took no notice of this, but the cry, "Give me my teeth," was so constantly repeated, that she, at last, in terror, jumped out of bed, took the teeth from the dressing table, and, opening the window, flung them out, exclaiming, "Drat the teeth, take 'em!"

They no sooner fell into the darkness on the road than hasty retreating footsteps were heard, and there were no more demands for the teeth.

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Source: Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall (London: John Camden Hotten, 1871), pp. 452-453.

Hunt entitles this tale "Cornish Teeny-Tiny."

Once upon a time there was a teeny-tiny woman lived in a teeny-tiny house in a teeny-tiny village.

Now, one day this teeny-tiny woman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-tiny way she came to a teeny-tiny gate. So the teeny-tiny woman opened the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny churchyard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had got into the teeny-tiny churchyard, she saw a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny grave, and the teeny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self, "This teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper."

So the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny-tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house.

Now when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house she was a teeny-tiny bit tired. So she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to her teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny cupboard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny-tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, which said,

"Give me my bone!"

And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes and went to sleep again. And when she had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder,

"Give me my bone!"

This made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so he hid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny further under the teeny-tiny clothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard said again a teeny-tiny louder,

"Give me my bone!"

And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened, but she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in her loudest teeny-tiny voice, "TAKE IT!"

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Source: Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales ( London: David Nutt, 1898), no. 12, pp. 57-58.

Jacobs' source: J. O. Halliwell, Nursery Rhymes and Nursery Tales (London, 1843), p. 148.

Taken in 1919, this ghost photo of a RAF squadron from World War One has an extra ghostly face in
the picture. It is believed to be Freddy Jackson, an air mechanic who had been accidentally killed by
an airplane propellor two days before the pic was taken. His funeral took place on the day the
photograph was shot. Members of his air squadron recognized his face with ease and believe he
must have showed up for the haunted picture, unaware he had passed. Freddy's ghostly apparition
appears behind the airman in the top row, fourth from the left

This famous ghost picture was apparently taken in 1936 by Indra Shira during a photo shoot for Country Life magazine. According to Indra, he saw an apparition coming down the stairs and so he told his assistant to a photograph the staircase. His assistant did not see the white apparition and bet Shira that nothing would be in the picture. Once the photograph was developed, he lost five English pounds as a result of the bet.

This photograph has been seen worldwide and is known as the Brown Lady of Raynham Hall. The home where this picture was taken is Raynham Hall in Norfolk, England. Legend tells that King George the IV of England and others had seen a ghost called the Brown Lady before this photo was taken. This 1936 photo is reportedly the last sighting of the Brown Lady.

This controversial ghost picture was taken at haunted Newby Church in North Yorkshire, England by
Reverend K. F. Lord in the early 1960s. The apparition picture appears to have a monk with hands
folded in prayer and a ghastly face. Lord thought he was snapping a picture of the church altar. The
monk looks to be older than the building, from the time when monks were a common sight in England.
Thus, the monk would date to before the time of Henry VIII, who closed down all monasteries. That
means the monk would be from around the 1500s. The building was only 200 years old at the time...