Is a long-dead Unionist politician really haunting the Catholic family now living in his home? FIONOLA MEREDITHvisits a Belfast household which blames the strange smells and scary noises on a chain-smoking, bigot from the past
THE FITZPATRICK family, from north Belfast, are convinced their house is haunted. What’s more, they suspect the culprit could be the ghost of a hardline unionist politician, motivated by a sectarian antipathy so strong it refused to die.
Born in 1876, Richard Dawson Bates lived in the imposing Victorian property for 35 years, according to deeds held by the family. After partition in 1921, Bates became minister of home affairs, and he made no secret of his hatred and suspicion of Catholics.
The Northern journalist James Kelly claims the “buck-toothed, white-moustached solicitor . . . controlled the RUC and the B Specials as if they were the private army of the Unionist Party”, while author Chris Ryder describes Bates as “an uncompromising bigot who regarded all Catholics as nationalists and, as such, enemies to be distrusted and neutralised in every conceivable way”.
Nathan Fitzpatrick – who discovered the house’s connection to Bates during research for his law degree – believes that since the Fitzpatricks are the first Catholic family to live there, Bates could be making his hostile presence felt through a series of dark apparitions, unexplained smells and spooky bumps in the night. Why does he think the dead politician is behind the strange goings on, as opposed to some other presence? “Bates was a chain-smoker,” says 22-year-old Fitzpatrick, “and we’ve all smelt tobacco smoke in this house, but none of us smoke.”
The trouble first started six years ago, when Fitzpatrick and his twin brother Carl brought a ouija board home as part of a film studies project. Not long after, Carl recalls being woken in the night by “a weird howling noise” which left him quaking under the covers. The twins’ mother, Maria, claims to have seen a ghostly face at the window of her first-floor bedroom, and both Carl and Nathan say they have witnessed a “dense black silhouette shape” that materialises at the top of the stairs. All three claim to have regularly heard footsteps walking down the hall but looked to find no one there, or to have seen bathroom taps spontaneously turn themselves on, releasing a trickle of water.
There are no spooky signs on the afternoon The Irish Times visits, apart from a Halloween decoration with a cheery cartoon ghost saying “boo!”.
The old house is dim, sombre and quiet as Carl points out the places where mysterious things have happened, sometimes at the rate of once a week – in the twins’ bedroom, the hall, the TV room. Carl says he is the sceptic of the family, the rationalist Scully to Nathan’s more credulous Mulder. “I try to think logically about it all, try to convince myself that there must be a reason for it,” he says, “but I haven’t found an explanation yet”.
Carl seems remarkably stoical about living in a house apparently seething with paranormal activity. Isn’t he bothered by all the howling and haunting?
“No, I’ve never been scared witless. One time I was walking out of the TV room carrying a pint full of water and the glass exploded in my hand. That was weird. And a few weeks ago I was talking to my neighbour in the hall and a vase fell off the table and landed on the floor, flowers and water everywhere.” Carl indicates the heavy crystal vase on the sideboard, now full of autumn gladioli. “That was a new one. I’ve never seen anything moving before.”
Five years ago, the disturbances became so intense the family called in American “religious demonologist” and “ghost hunter”, 82-year-old Lorraine Warren, to investigate the house. Together with her late husband Ed – who claimed to be the only lay demonologist officially sanctioned by the Vatican – Warren has taken part in numerous exorcisms and paranormal investigations, including the infamous Amityville case in America.
Warren recommended the Fitzpatricks get rid of the ouija board – the presence of which she regarded as simply asking for trouble – and advised them to put a crucifix in its place. The strange happenings lessened for a while but have since returned with a vengeance. Next month, Warren will be back in Belfast to host a special “supernatural evening” and she plans to make a return visit to the house.
Speaking from her home in Connecticut, Warren says she hopes to bring closure to what she delicately terms the Fitzpatricks’ “infestation”. “This business of the vase being lifted and crashing down – that’s definitely spirit-related. It takes a lot of energy to do that. Things like that can be very trying on the nerves of the family living there.”
If it is the unquiet spirit of Richard Dawson Bates causing all the trouble, Warren may have a special challenge on her hands. “I’m a Roman Catholic as well, so I hope he won’t hold that against me.”
