For Karen Goffe, the house at 22 Chapel Street in the historic market town of Petersfield is much more than just a picturesque cottage. It’s the starting point of a story that has haunted her family for nearly a century. A story of paranormal events centred on her grandmother, Violet Lockyer.
“I have walked past it many times,” Karen says of the house, which today looks like any other quiet, residential home. But behind its unassuming façade lies a haunted history that regularly drew crowds of curious locals. Indeed, on occasion, the throng was so large that police were called to erect a cordon and control them.
The disturbances Violet experienced fall into a particular kind of haunting known as a poltergeist – meaning “noisy spirit” in German. Unlike the silent apparitions that once lingered in grand rectories and castles, these poltergeists were noisy, unpredictable, and intimately tied to the people they troubled.
The story of the Petersfield Poltergeist began in the cold winter of 1930. The Lockyer family, headed by Alfred and Florence, had recently moved into the house at Chapel Street, renting it from a local doctor. The family were very fond of the home and the surrounding area, having previously lived in nearby Steep Marsh where they worked on a farm.
But their peaceful life was soon shattered by a series of strange and inexplicable events that quickly captured the attention of the media.
The activity, which started with a ghostly tapping “like a tennis ball bouncing,” centred almost exclusively around young Violet. As reported in the Hampshire Telegraph, she quickly devised a way to communicate with the alleged spirit. The paper noted: “Miss Lockyer hit upon the idea of asking the spirit to tap three times for ‘yes’ and once for ‘no’ in reply to questions, and in this way she has carried on conversations with it ever since.”
The knocking, however, was only the start and trademark poltergeist phenomena began to occur. Mr. Roald Lockyer, Violet’s brother, told a reporter that on one occasion a clock was slightly lifted and an ornament suddenly jumped off the fireplace into the centre of the room. In another instance, a photograph inexplicably dropped into Violet’s hands as she stood near the same mantelpiece.
The phenomena was so convincing they baffled even the most sober of local figures. The Vicar of Petersfield, Rev. Kent, a man of standing in the community, visited the house and was left thoroughly perplexed, admitting, “I can’t understand it. I have never seen anything like it before.”
Even more significantly, the head of the local police force, Superintendent J. Ellis, gave an official statement that lent incredible credibility to the events. He told the press, “There is no doubt about the tapping… There is no doubt either that the spirit, or whatever it is, answers Miss Lockyer’s questions in an intelligible way.”
With trusted officials publicly stumped, the debate raged in the letters pages of the local newspapers. Sceptics grasped for rational explanations. One widely circulated theory came from a reader signing themselves “Anti-Spectre,” who suggested the culprit was not a poltergeist, but an insect. The writer claimed the noise was made by a “death-watch” beetle, a pest known for making audible ticking sounds in the timbers of old buildings.
Despite the theories, Violet’s father, Alfred, wrote a powerful letter to the paper defending his family’s integrity against any claims of trickery and dismissing rumours that he was profiting from the curious crowds who gathered outside. “The whole thing is perfectly genuine from beginning to end,” he insisted. “I have never taken a penny from any visitor to the house.”
Using the tapping method, Violet came to believe she was communicating with the ghost of a woman who had once lived and died in the property.
“Violet believed the ghost was of a lady who died in the house before the family had moved in,” Karen confirms. “Her name was Anna Roby Winch. She would often refer to the ghost simply as ‘Mrs. Winch.’”
Historical records confirm that Mrs. Winch did indeed live at 22 Chapel Street and passed away there. But according to family lore, passed down through generations, her story may have included a darker chapter. “My Nan believed Mrs. Winch was locked under the stairs often,” Karen says – a detail that adds a potentially disturbing layer to the haunting.
The ghost reportedly conveyed, through the knocks and taps, that there was something of value hidden in the house. It repeatedly drew Violet’s attention to the fireplace in the front room – a spot where much of the activity seemed to centre. Acting on this strange direction, the family eventually lifted the hearthstones in search of the hidden object. But despite their best efforts, they found nothing.
The press eventually moved on and the crowds dispersed, but for Violet, the story was far from over. The phenomena were not tied to the house; they were tied to her.
“The haunting moved with her,” Karen states, recounting events that occurred decades later. One of the most startling is from the 1970s, which Karen witnessed herself. “I remember a box of matches flying through a car window into the lap of the front passenger after they moaned about not having a light. No one was outside the car, and Violet was sat in the back.”
In another home, Karen’s mother witnessed kitchen cupboards swinging open and closed, and saw a handbag lift itself from a surface and float eerily down the stairs.
The activity wasn’t always benign. Karen’s own father, Violet’s son, carries the memory to this day. “My dad does not like going up in lofts and remembers being lifted up in the air by unseen hands”.
The persistent fear eventually led the family to seek a final, drastic solution. A priest was called in to perform an exorcism on Violet and her new home. According to Karen, the ritual brought a measure of peace. “It calmed down after this,” she says. “Not completely, but nothing else really frightening happened”.
Violet Lockyer lived with the weight of her story, rarely speaking of it to the grandchildren. “She was usually hushed around us children,” Karen remembers, “as no one wanted us afraid.” The experience left its mark, likely contributing to the anxiety her grandmother suffered from in later years.
For Karen, the questions remain. She has weighed every rational explanation, from pranks to psychokinesis, but is left with the profound conviction of her grandmother. “You would have to be a highly trained illusionist to pull off some of it,” Karen concludes. “And Violet always sounded extremely convinced throughout her life that this actually happened to her.”
Violet’s case was not unique in the 1930s. Around the same period, the haunting of Alma Fielding in London captivated the public and paranormal investigators alike. Like Violet, Alma experienced unexplained knocks, flying objects, and a spirit seemingly tied closely to her presence. Both cases highlight the distinctive nature of poltergeist phenomena – not bound to places but often following or focusing on individuals, and marked by a mix of fear, confusion, and fascination.
Poltergeist cases stretch back centuries, from the Wesley poltergeist at Epworth Rectory in the 1700s to more recent reports such as the Battersea Poltergeist, 30 East Drive, and the Enfield Poltergeist. These stories share many of the same eerie hallmarks that defined Violet’s haunting.
The Petersfield Poltergeist was a fleeting public spectacle, but a lifelong private reality. The newspaper ink has faded, but through her granddaughter’s determination to tell her story, the mystery of Violet Lockyer remains as potent and unresolved as ever.
