NO GHOSTS

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22356, 29 February 1936, Page 1 (Supplement)

NO GHOSTS

THIS LAND'S STRANGE LACK

BY DON AT/D COWIE

Visitors to this country are always eager to discover points of difference between our manners, climate and other natural features and those of Britain. But so far I have heard no one exclaim that there are no ghosts in New Zealand. The very words have an uncanny, senseless ring. Any sensible person will dismiss them with a laugh, or with the observation that the world has ceased to bother its head about that sort of thing, and New Zealand leads the world. I feel, however, that the phenomenon has some deep significance. The subject, of course, is not an easy one to handle. Ghosts there may be in New Zealand, and I, during my residence, may not have heard of them. Maori ghosts there certainly are, but they haunt remote rocks and forests, and do not bother tho Nordic settler. I am thinking, you see, of white ghosts, such as attach themselves to old houses and accompany ancient families. AVhen the emigrant ships sailed for New Zealand last century they carried whole houses, pianos bird-cages, domestic animals, and they even harboured such undesirables as European rats and mice. But, so far as I can make out, they brought no ghosts. Otherwise we should have heard of their doings before now. Certain pioneer homesteads would have acquired a bad reputation. Certain parts of certain townships would always be avoided at night. Strange tales would circulate behind closed shutters.

As it is, New Zealand has no night life, apart from that provided by journalists, policemen, and the well-meaning but hopelessly materialistic efforts of cabaret proprietors. Youthful _ New Zealanders rarely think of apparitions in the dark. They fear burglars, yes, and sheep-stealers, and fire-bugs. But they seldom use that familiar term " bogey-man," so potent in my English childhood. Some Stories *

I have heard but one authentic ghoststory in Now Zealand. It was told me by a woman who had single-handed charge of a field hospital on the West Coast during the post-war influenza epidemic. A sick baby was left with her, and one lonely night, when she had gone into another room to prepare some gruel, she saw the infant walk from its room and disappear in the dark outside. The woman hurried to the door, but the night was black, and when she returned to the other room she found the baby lying in its cot dead. Then I think Samuel Butler tells the story of the swagger who spent one night in a whare befeide a decomposing Chinese; and I have heard rumours of queer happenings on the Franz Josef Glacier or thereabouts. But these are not ghosts, ghosts such as strike terror into the hearts of lonely wayfarers in some parts of Britain to this day, and such as inspire writers of shockers to dizzy heights of eloquence. Please do not hurry off with the idea that I believe in ghosts. But I was brought up in a part of England where some people do accept the supernatural, and where there have been countless instances of ghostly visitations. Recently the London Daily Mail published a picture of a ghost. A man took a photograph of a ruined chapel at Minsden, near Hitcliin, and was amazed to find a semi-transparent cowled figure upon his negative. The Psychical Research Society concluded that the figure was not due to a fake or to a defect in the film. The story will be found in Mr. R. L. Mine's " History of Hitchin," where it is revealed that Minsden Chapel has harboured a ghost for centuries.

1 once slept in a haunted room, and spent an uncomfortable night, merely (no doubt) because I had been told that the room was haunted, but I still swear that there was something in the atmosphere of the place which was quite beyond my childish comprehension. Lord Lytton was not an untruthful man, neither was he over-imaginative, and his " Haunters and the Haunted " is a strangely convincing book. It tells the " true " story of a house in the North of England which refused to bo inhabited. There are written testimonies, reports of eye-witnesses, and many other credible things. Effect of Tradition Perhaps Mr. John Cowper Powys reaches the root of the matter in " A Glastonbury Romance " when he describes the superstitions of Somersetshire folk. Ancient deeds and passions may influence succeeding generations. It is impossible to live in such a town as Glastonbury without subscribing to the supernatural, says Mr. Powys; and I think 1 can understand what he means.

Residence in New Zealand after residence in such a town as Glastonbury heightens this understanding. New Zealand has no traditions. The settlers of this country were most of them enlightened men and women. They left their superstitions, their traditions and their ghosts far behind when they came out to a land that could only be conquered by common sense. New Zealand has no ghosts to this day. That might be the explanation. But, on the other hand, it might not. I once had a pet theory that the hard, clear atmosphere of New Zealand (in the physical sense) precluded the possibility of ghosts. Our Victorian grandfathers delighted to find material explanations for psychic phenomena. I have an encyclopedia dated 1577 which contains a characteristic article on apparitions. The hypothesis is advanced that the apparitions known as ghosts are caused by optical illusions. It is quite possible to produce ghosts, states the article, by varying the intensity of light " passing upon or through large plates of glass." Very well, the atmosphere of New Zealand is very different from that of Britain. It is a black-and-white atmosphere," and does not admit of halfshades and undertones. Ghosts may not live in such an atmosphere, because we could not see them. A ghost in primary colours would be a .manifest absurdity. Little Questing

A German philosopher has pointed out that " ghosts visit only those who look for them." It is unlikely, then, that New Zealand will ever have any indigenous white * ghosts. Successive generations of New Zealanders will spend less and less "time looking for ghosts, until eventually these ancient hangers-on of our civilisation will bo as mythical as the inoa.

Even our poets have forgotten the time-honoured quest. The only reference I have so far found is contained in some verses by A. R. 1). Fairburn ? and they might be referring to anything: The stubborn bench, whereon are tossed White roses from the sea's green bough, Has never sheathed u Sormnn prow Nor flinched beneath a Roman host; Yet in my bones I feel the stir Of ancient wrongs nnd vanished woes. And through my troubled spirit goes Tho shadow of an old despair. Therefore 1 implore any New Zealander who has read this ramble and has seen, heard, smelt, or even thought of a ghost, to announce the fact. He owes it to his country and to science.