The Newton Ghost
In August of 1901 a terrifying apparition stalked the streets of Newton and Eden Terrace. The Newtown Ghost, according to those who saw it, was clad in a white sheet which seemed to emit a phosphorescent glow. Like Spring Heel Jack, the fearsome creature who was supposed to have stalked London a century before, the Newton Ghost would leap out to terrify men and women walking the district's streets at night, then bound away. Witnesses reported the 'ghost' ran away at speed, bounding over high fences to effect its escape.
Police and ordinary residents alike were eager to catch the "apparition" that had been terrifying their district. Brave men volunteered to patrol the streets in search of the menace. A columnist for the Auckland Star demanded vigilante action to put down the ghost scare, suggesting the assailant could be delivered a non-fatal wound with horsewhips and rifles loaded with rock salt. The Observer hoped he would be "soundly thrashed" when caught. Members of the Grafton Club offered the services of their fastest runners in search of the spectre. The papers reported that one constable came close to an arrest, but the Newton Ghost "played leapfrog over the head" of the officer and escaped along the railway tracks.
On August 14th, Newton police arrested a lad dressed in white and acting oddly in upper Pitt Street. The lad, fifteen-year-old James Lowe, convinced police that he was one of the many amateur sleuths patrolling the district, dressed in copy-cat costume in the hopes of luring out the real Newton Ghost, and carrying a sheath knife for his own protection. Lowe's appearance at the High Court on a charge of threatening behaviour brought a large crowd eager to catch a glimpse of the supposed ghost.
As the Newton Ghost's fame grew, so did the number of reported sightings - terrifying women as far afield as Ponsonby, Mount Roskill and Grafton all on the same night. False sightings of the spectre led to warnings against wearing white after dark: men in sporting whites, ladies wearing aprons and opera gowns, and even a cow were mistaken for the ghost by wary residents. It's possible that, along with these cases of mistaken identity, copycat "ghosts" exploited the public fear and fascination - and they weren't alone in doing so. An Observer cartoonist poked fun at the young men feigning gallantry in offering to escort young ladies home to "protect" them from the ghost. Empire Blue laundry powder even managed to incorporate the sheet-clad villain into its newspaper advertisements at the height of the scare.
By the end of August the scare seems to have fizzled. In spite of the efforts of police and vigilante patrols, and the apparition supposedly making up to a dozen appearances each night at the height of his fame, no suspect was ever caught in relation to the scare. The papers and the public eventually lost interest, and the Observer's society pages declared the ghost dead on August 31st.