Advertisement
If you have a new account but are having problems posting or verifying your account, please email us on hello@boards.ie for help. Thanks :)
Hello all! Please ensure that you are posting a new thread or question in the appropriate forum. The Feedback forum is overwhelmed with questions that are having to be moved elsewhere. If you need help to verify your account contact hello@boards.ie
Hi all,
Vanilla are planning an update to the site on April 24th (next Wednesday). It is a major PHP8 update which is expected to boost performance across the site. The site will be down from 7pm and it is expected to take about an hour to complete. We appreciate your patience during the update.
Thanks all.
Vanilla are planning an update to the site on April 24th (next Wednesday). It is a major PHP8 update which is expected to boost performance across the site. The site will be down from 7pm and it is expected to take about an hour to complete. We appreciate your patience during the update.
Thanks all.
loftus hall
Comments
-
-
-
There are plenty of myths involved with the hellfire club, the most notorious story is the men sitting around playing poker, and one man accidentally drops his card, he leans down to discover that one of the men has hoofs instead of feet.
Its suppose to be the devil playing cards with them, and he burns them all. I don't believe in much paranormal activities, but what is the deal with the magic hill up past the hell fire at view point? I've been up there many times showing people how the car rolls up the hill when the engines off.
I've heard people saying its an illusion or the way the hill is shaped...
0 -
-
-
Advertisement
-
-
-
Hey Pooks
As I said a while back I was setting up some photography gear in one of the darker rooms in the convent and I was totally freaked out by what sounded like voices rotating around the room. I went back in the same room with a buddy and they thought they felt their arms were being scratched under their jacket, we got out of there pretty quick I can tell ye! well next day my buddy had red marks from elbow to wrist! Another photographer was in that same room, it was a hot summer day and he said he felt a huge temperature drop – it was so cold that he put on a sweatshirt and a jacket, to begin with he thought it was some weird draft. Anyways he set up his camera on a tripod for a long exposure and he swears other people were in the room with him even though he was the only person in the whole complex. When I saw him he was really freaked out. I did eventually head back to that room with a friend (who closely watched my back) and I did make the photograph.. and guess what came out on the photograph??? ……. nothing special!
I found a pic of the graveyard, this photograph shows less than about a 1/4 of the graves here and sorry but it doesn't look too good now I've shrunk it for the web. Check out the names on the graves... EVERY SINGLE ONE reads 'HERE LIES SISTER MARY'!!!
I think this graveyard will eventually be open to the public as it contains the grave of supposedly a child saint, the story is on my website under Magdalene convent-Little Nellie.
Tragamin – thanks for posting them pics. So you managed to get up close to the house and didn’t get shot at by the Loftus caretaker? lol
I'd still really like to get up to Loftus and get the place properly documented.
By the way I was in another really mad freaky place yesterday.. maybe the most intensely bad place yet.. too damn scary to head up the stairs alone so I will have to go back with a buddy. I will let ye know when I have the place fully covered.0 -
Hey Pooks
As I said a while back I was setting up some photography gear in one of the darker rooms in the convent and I was totally freaked out by what sounded like voices rotating around the room. I went back in the same room with a buddy and they thought they felt their arms were being scratched under their jacket, we got out of there pretty quick I can tell ye! well next day my buddy had red marks from elbow to wrist! Another photographer was in that same room, it was a hot summer day and he said he felt a huge temperature drop – it was so cold that he put on a sweatshirt and a jacket, to begin with he thought it was some weird draft. Anyways he set up his camera on a tripod for a long exposure and he swears other people were in the room with him even though he was the only person in the whole complex. When I saw him he was really freaked out. I did eventually head back to that room with a friend (who closely watched my back) and I did make the photograph.. and guess what came out on the photograph??? ……. nothing special!
I found a pic of the graveyard, this photograph shows less than about a 1/4 of the graves here and sorry but it doesn't look too good now I've shrunk it for the web. Check out the names on the graves... EVERY SINGLE ONE reads 'HERE LIES SISTER MARY'!!!
I think this graveyard will eventually be open to the public as it contains the grave of supposedly a child saint, the story is on my website under Magdalene convent-Little Nellie.
Tragamin – thanks for posting them pics. So you managed to get up close to the house and didn’t get shot at by the Loftus caretaker? lol
I'd still really like to get up to Loftus and get the place properly documented.
By the way I was in another really mad freaky place yesterday.. maybe the most intensely bad place yet.. too damn scary to head up the stairs alone so I will have to go back with a buddy. I will let ye know when I have the place fully covered.
Sorry, my bad, I got confused didn't realise that story was you. Holy crap that scratches thing is horrible. it must be insane though to have physical evidence of something like that happeneing to you. you didn't get any pics but at least you know your mate wasn't lying about what he felt!
Ya i read the story on your site about little nellie it's a funny one. I read about it before in a book somewhere. Didn't realise that that's where she was buried. The graveyard looks so weird with all the duplicated names on the headstones. Thanks for all that.0 -
-
Advertisement
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Advertisement
-
-
Hi AI
Ignoring comments of previous blonkers........:rolleyes:
Loftus Hall is indeed a strange place. I was down in wexford a few weeks ago at Hook....loftus hall is some spot all right. The old doll (local man wife who wanted to run it as a hotel) is in a Nursing Home in the UK. I have decided to try and put a little bit of the interesting history of teh place together.
Check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rathfarnham_Castle
and
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marquess_of_Ely#Tottenham.2FLoftus_family
I had seen it from the Waterford side a few times.....its a bleak spot.
The following story can hardly be called _legendary_, though it may
certainly be termed ancestral. The writer's name is not given, but he is
described as a rector and Rural Dean in the late Established Church of
Ireland, and a Justice of the Peace for two counties. It has this added
interest that it was told to Queen Victoria by the Marchioness of Ely.
"Loftus Hall, in County Wexford, was built on the site of a stronghold
erected by Raymond, one of Strongbow's followers. His descendants
forfeited it in 1641, and the property subsequently fell into the hands
of the Loftus family, one of whom built the house and other buildings.
About the middle of the eighteenth century, there lived at Loftus Hall
Charles Tottenham, a member of the Irish Parliament, known to fame as
'Tottenham and his Boots,' owing to his historic ride to the Irish
capital in order to give the casting vote in a motion which saved £80,000
to the Irish Treasury.
"The second son, Charles Tottenham, had two daughters, Elizabeth and
Anne, to the latter of whom our story relates. He came to live at Loftus
Hall, the old baronial residence of the family, with his second wife and
the two above-mentioned daughters of his first wife. Loftus Hall was an
old rambling mansion, with no pretence to beauty: passages that led
nowhere, large dreary rooms, small closets, various unnecessary nooks and corners, panelled or wainscotted walls, and a _tapestry chamber_. Here resided at the time my story commences Charles Tottenham, his second wife and his daughter Anne: Elizabeth, his second daughter, having been married. The father was a cold austere man; the stepmother such as that unamiable relation is generally represented to be. What and how great the state of lonely solitude and depression of mind of poor Anne must have been in such a place, without neighbours or any home sympathy, may easily be imagined.
"One wet and stormy night, as they sat in the large drawing-room, they
were startled by a loud knocking at the outer gate, a most surprising
and unusual occurrence. Presently the servant announced that a young
gentleman on horseback was there requesting lodging and shelter. He had
lost his way, his horse was knocked up, and he had been guided by the
only light which he had seen. The stranger was admitted and refreshed,
and proved himself to be an agreeable companion and a finished
gentleman--far too agreeable for the lone scion of the House of
Tottenham, for a sad and mournful tale follows, and one whose strange
results continued almost to the present day.
"Much mystery has involved the story at the present point, and in truth
the matter was left in such silence and obscurity, that, but for the acts
of her who was the chief sufferer in it through several generations,
nothing would now be known. The fact, I believe, was--which was not
unnatural under the circumstances--that this lonely girl formed a strong
attachment to this gallant youth chance had brought to her door, which
was warmly returned. The father, as was his stern nature, was obdurate,
and the wife no solace to her as she was a step-mother. It is only an
instance of the refrain of the old ballad, 'He loved, and he rode away';
he had youth and friends, and stirring scenes, and soon forgot his
passing attachment. Poor Anne's reason gave way.
"The fact is but too true, she became a confirmed maniac, and had to be
confined for the rest of her life in the tapestried chamber before
mentioned, and in which she died. A strange legend was at once invented
to account for this calamity: it tells how the horseman proved such an
agreeable acquisition that he was invited to remain some days, and made
himself quite at home, and as they were now four in number whist was
proposed in the evenings. The stranger, however, with Anne as his
partner, invariably won every point; the old couple never had the
smallest success. One night, when poor Anne was in great delight at
winning so constantly, she dropped a ring on the floor, and, suddenly
diving under the table to recover it, was terrified to see that her
agreeable partner had an unmistakably cloven foot. Her screams made him aware of her discovery, and he at once vanished in a thunder-clap leaving a brimstone smell behind him. The poor girl never recovered from the shock, lapsed from one fit into another, and was carried to the tapestry room from which she never came forth alive.
"This story of his Satanic majesty got abroad, and many tales are told of
how he continued to visit and disturb the house. The noises, the
apparitions, and disturbances were innumerable, and greatly distressed
old Charles Tottenham, his wife, and servants. It is said that they
finally determined to call in the services of their parish priest, a
Father Broders, who, armed with all the exorcisms of the Church,
succeeded in confining the operations of the evil spirit to one room--the
tapestry room.
"Here, then, we have traced from the date of the unhappy girl's
misfortune that the house was disturbed by something supernatural,
and that the family sought the aid of the parish priest to abate it, and
further that the tapestry room was the scene of this visitation.
"But the matter was kept dark, all reference to poor Anne was avoided,
and the belief was allowed to go abroad that it was Satan himself who
disturbed the peace of the family. Her parents were ready to turn aside
the keen edge of observation from her fate, preferring rather that it
should be believed that they were haunted by the Devil, so that the story of her wrongs should sink into oblivion, and be classed as an old wives' tale of horns and hoofs. The harsh father and stepmother have long gone to the place appointed for all living. The Loftus branch of the family are in possession of the Hall. Yet poor Anne has kept her tapestried chamber by nearly the same means which compelled her parents to call in the aid of the parish priest so long ago.
"But to my tale: About the end of the last century my father was invited
by Mrs. Tottenham to meet a large party at the Hall. He rode, as was then the custom in Ireland, with his pistols in his holsters. On arriving he
found the house full, and Mrs. Tottenham apologised to him for being
obliged to assign to him the tapestry chamber for the night, which,
however, he gladly accepted, never having heard any of the stories
connected with it.
"However, he had scarcely covered himself in the bed when suddenly
something heavy leaped upon it, growling like a dog. The curtains were
torn back, and the clothes stripped from the bed. Supposing that some of his companions were playing tricks, he called out that he would shoot
them, and seizing a pistol he fired up the chimney, lest he should wound
one of them. He then struck a light and searched the room diligently, but
found no sign or mark of anyone, and the door locked as he had left it on
retiring to rest. Next day he informed his hosts how he had been annoyed, but they could only say that they would not have put him in that room if they had had any other to offer him.
"Years passed on, when the Marquis of Ely went to the Hall to spend some time there. His valet was put to sleep in the tapestry chamber. In the middle of the night the whole family was aroused by his dreadful roars and screams, and he was found lying in another room in mortal terror.
After some time he told them that, soon after he had lain himself down in bed, he was startled by the rattling of the curtains as they were torn
back, and looking up he saw a tall lady by the bedside dressed in stiff
brocaded silk; whereupon he rushed out of the room screaming with terror.
"Years afterwards I was brought by my father with the rest of the family to the Hall for the summer bathing. Attracted by the quaint look of the tapestry room, I at once chose it for my bedroom, being utterly ignorant of the stories connected with it. For some little time nothing out of the way happened. One night, however, I sat up much later than usual to finish an article in a magazine I was reading. The full moon was shining clearly in through two large windows, making all as clear as day. I was just about to get into bed, and, happening to glance towards the door, to my great surprise I saw it open quickly and noiselessly, and as quickly and noiselessly shut again, while the tall figure of a lady in a stiff
dress passed slowly through the room to one of the curious closets
already mentioned, which was in the opposite corner. I rubbed my eyes.
Every possible explanation but the true one occurred to my mind, for the
idea of a ghost did not for a moment enter my head. I quickly reasoned
myself into a sound sleep and forgot the matter.
"The next night I again sat up late in my bedroom, preparing a gun and
ammunition to go and shoot sea-birds early next morning, when the door
again opened and shut in the same noiseless manner, and the same tall
lady proceeded to cross the room quietly and deliberately as before
towards the closet. I instantly rushed at her, and threw my right arm
around her, exclaiming 'Ha! I have you now!' To my utter astonishment my arm passed through her and came with a thud against the bedpost, at which spot she then was. The figure quickened its pace, and as it passed the skirt of its dress lapped against the curtain and I marked distinctly the pattern of her gown--a stiff brocaded silk.
"The ghostly solution of the problem did not yet enter my mind. However, I told the story at breakfast next morning. My father, who had himself suffered from the lady's visit so long before, never said a word, and it passed as some folly of mine. So slight was the impression it made on me at the time that, though I slept many a night after in the room, I never thought of watching or looking out for anything.
"Years later I was again a guest at the Hall. The Marquis of Ely and his
family, with a large retinue of servants, filled the house to
overflowing. As I passed the housekeeper's room I heard the valet say:
'What! I to sleep in the tapestry chamber? Never! I will leave my lord's
service before I sleep there!' At once my former experience in that room
flashed upon my mind. I had never thought of it during the interval, and
was still utterly ignorant of Anne Tottenham: so when the housekeeper was gone I spoke to the valet and said, 'Tell me why you will not sleep in
the tapestry room, as I have a particular reason for asking.' He said,
'Is it possible that you do not know that Miss Tottenham passes through
that room every night, and, dressed in a stiff flowered silk dress,
enters the closet in the corner?' I replied that I had never heard a word
of her till now, but that I had, a few years before, twice seen a figure
exactly like what he had described, and passed my arm through her body.
'Yes,' said he, 'that was Miss Tottenham, and, as is well known, she was
confined--mad--in that room, and died there, and, they say, was buried in that closet.'
"Time wore on and another generation arose, another owner possessed the property--the grandson of my friend. In the year 185--, he being then a child came with his mother, the Marchioness of Ely, and his tutor, the Rev. Charles Dale, to the Hall for the bathing season. Mr. Dale was no imaginative person--a solid, steady, highly educated English clergyman, who had never even heard the name of Miss Tottenham. The tapestry room was his bed-chamber. One day in the late autumn of that year I received a letter from the uncle of the Marquis, saying, 'Do tell me what it was you saw long ago in the tapestry chamber, for something strange must have happened to the Rev. Charles Dale, as he came to breakfast quite mystified. Something very strange must have occurred, but he will not tell us, seems quite nervous, and, in short, is determined to give up his tutorship and return to England. Every year something mysterious has happened to any person who slept in that room, but they always kept it close. Mr. D----, a Wexford gentleman, slept there a short while ago. He had a splendid dressing-case, fitted with gold and silver articles, which he left carefully locked on his table at night; in the morning he found the whole of its contents scattered about the room.'
"Upon hearing this I determined to write to the Rev. Charles Dale, then
Incumbent of a parish near Dover, telling him what had occurred to myself in the room, and that the evidence of supernatural appearances there were so strong and continued for several generations, that I was anxious to put them together, and I would consider it a great favour if he would tell me if anything had happened to him in the room, and of what nature. He then for the first time mentioned the matter, and from his letter now before me I make the following extracts:
"'For three weeks I experienced no inconvenience from the lady, but one
night, just before we were about to leave, I had sat up very late. It was
just one o'clock when I retired to my bedroom, a very beautiful moonlight night. I locked my door, and saw that the shutters were properly fastened, as I did every night. I had not lain myself down more than about five minutes before something jumped on the bed making a growling noise; the bed-clothes were pulled off though I strongly resisted thepull. I immediately sprang out of bed, lighted my candle, looked into the closet and under the bed, but saw nothing.'
"Mr. Dale goes on to say that he endeavoured to account for it in some
such way as I had formerly done, having never up to that time heard one word of the lady and her doings in that room. He adds, 'I did not see the lady or hear any noise but the growling.'
"Here then is the written testimony of a beneficed English clergyman,
occupying the responsible position of tutor to the young Marquis of Ely,
a most sober-minded and unimpressionable man. He repeats in 1867 almost the very words of my father when detailing his experience in that room in 1790--a man of whose existence he had never been cognisant, and therefore utterly ignorant of Miss Tottenham's doings in that room nearly eighty years before.
"In the autumn of 1868 I was again in the locality, at Dunmore, on the
opposite side of the Waterford Estuary. I went across to see the old
place and what alterations Miss Tottenham had forced the proprietors to
make in the tapestry chamber. I found that the closet into which the poor lady had always vanished was taken away, the room enlarged, and two additional windows put in: the old tapestry had gone and a billiard-table occupied the site of poor Anne's bed. I took the old housekeeper aside, and asked her to tell me how Miss Tottenham bore these changes in her apartment. She looked quite frightened and most anxious to avoid the question, but at length hurriedly replied, 'Oh, Master George! don't talk about her: last night she made a horrid noise knocking the billiard-balls about!'
"I have thus traced with strict accuracy this most real and true
tale, from the days of 'Tottenham and his Boots' to those of his
great-great-grandson. Loftus Hall has since been wholly rebuilt, but
I have not heard whether poor Anne Tottenham has condescended to visit it, or is wholly banished at last."
Amazing place, a pity its closed, but at least it looks safe and water tight. Apparently a few "business men in caravans" (tryin to be PC) were very attracted to the lead flashing etc
Unlike Convent of Mercy Kinsale, I have a few bits I bought at auction there when it was closed down... my sister was a boarded there....if the walls could talk in that place..............some stories my sister tells........
Anyhow wrt to Hellfires Club.....Hell Fire Clubs main meeting in Ireland were in Vernon Mount House in Cork City.........The UCC colours black and red were courtesy of some of the clubs members!!!! The Skull and Crossbones were added by teh med faculty afterwards......
If anybody gets a chance its well worth a visit....
Another house of ill reput is Haversham House in Cork was the basis of Charles Dickens Great Expectations
Thank you AI for some great pictures, its a great credit to you when I am out on my travels I'll take photos of any interesting places/building/ruins I come across0 -
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Advertisement
-
Advertisement