Halloween & Folklore Tales from Ballymena and Beyond

Exploring the Myths, Spirits, and Superstitions of Mid-Antrim

As Autumn leaves blanket the Glens of Antrim and mist clings to hedgerows around Ballymena, a sense of the uncanny awakens. Though not every village in the region boasts a haunted castle, a banshee, a wandering watchman or floating spectres, the surrounding folklore whispers of curses, ghostly riders, and unholy deadly bargains—perfect for Halloween.

Journey through some of the most captivating haunting Halloween legends and eerie traditions that surrounds us from Broughshane, Cullybackey, Gracehill, Galgorm, and Ballymena.

A Region Steeped in Shadows:

From racehorses cursed by holy relics to demonic pacts and ghostly coachmen, the Ballymena area is rich in tales perfect for Halloween. Whether you’re walking the Dark Hedges at dusk or passing Dundermot Mound under a full moon, you might just feel the chill of a story still being told.

So light a candle, leave a little milk by the door—and if someone asks about the bridge at Glarryford…Don’t answer.

The Curse of the Rosary Beads — Broughshane’s Eerie Racehorse:

Broughshane may not be known for ghost sightings, but it’s certainly steeped in the strange and supernatural. A tale from the 1760s tells of Charles O’Neill, a local landowner, and his prized racehorse, Broughshane Swallow. On the morning of a crucial race, an old woman offered O’Neill a gift: a string of rosary beads. She promised the horse would win—if the beads were draped over her.

O’Neill obliged. The mare did indeed win the race and many others… only to collapse and die moments after crossing the finish line. Within days, Charles himself followed her to the grave dying from a broken heart. As for the beads, they were never seen again. A charm turned curse. Or simply a warning that bargains made under odd circumstances rarely end well?

Slemish and the Shadow of Nessy O’Haughan:

Slemish Mountain, the eroded remains of an extinct volcano, which sits perched on the horizon of Mid and East Antrim for all to see. This landmark just outside Broughshane, Ballymena has long been a crucible of myth and mystery. While it’s better known as the site where St. Patrick tended sheep for 6 years as a young sixteen old slave, before escaping after having a dream, that there was a ship ready to sail. He escaped and found the ship but returned in 432 to bring Christianity to Ireland.

The nearby folklore includes tales of Nessy O’Haughan—an outlaw said to be Antrim’s very own Robin Hood.

Though not a ghost story in the traditional sense, the rugged slopes with its windswept Faerie hawthorn trees and whispered legends of those unseen little people around Slemish lend an undeniably spectral quality to the region, especially on darkening October nights.

The tale of Nessy O’Haughan is a tale of the underdog and the fight for justice for the poor

Naoise O'Haughian was born in 1691. Naoise was brought up against a backdrop of political upheaval and religious turmoil, having been born the year following the defeat of the Catholic King James at the hands of William of Orange at the Battle of the Boyne.

During the Plantation of Ulster the O’Haughian clan had been dispossessed of their farm and its land. In the early 1700s, Naoise and the O’Haughian family were evicted from their rented house by the local wealthy landlord. A fight broke out between the family and bailiffs or “Redcoats” during the eviction, resulting in the death of a bailiff at the hands of the eldest son, Shane Óg O’Haughian.

The O’Haughian family went on the run to escape persecution – which in those days was often a public hanging. Whilst their parents were moved to safety amongst sympathetic Presbyterian families, Naoise and his brothers took to the Antrim Hills, becoming ‘Rapparees’ or outlaws.

Much like Robin Hood and his men, the O’Haughian brothers and their friends targeted the rich and gave to the poor in revenge for what had happened to them and other families. Living the life of highwaymen, they often stopped horse drawn carriages at gunpoint on remote “highways”, stealing whatever valuables they could get and handing these over to poorer people who were struggling during a time of ever-increasing rents and religious persecution.

This brought the attention of the authorities who pursued the gang and offered rewards for their arrest. One by one they were successful in their pursuit of the highwaymen, with many being arrested and hanged. While a group of O’Haughian’s men left the country to escape detention, Naoise remained in Ireland, continuing his campaign of retribution whilst outsmarting the authorities time and again.

He moved from the Antrim Hills to the Belfast Hills, taking shelter around Ballyutoag at the back of Divis and below the Hatchet Field on Black Mountain. He often made his way to Ballymagarry, Ballymurphy, Ballyhill, Hightown Hill and Craigarogan, roaming, raiding and seeking refuge with sympathetic locals. As time went on, Naoise’s brazen escapes from the law became more frequent. One close encounter saw him narrowly escape arrest by leaping across the Lagan and leaving his pursuers stranded on the other side of the riverbank.

It was after this particular incident that Naoise began to lay very low, seemingly disappearing from skirmishes with the authorities and his life of theft. Without Naoise to distract them, the soldiers became bored and one day began a bet amongst themselves to see who could jump clear over two horses. The bet was easily won by one of the soldiers, and so the jump was increased to three horses with a bigger winning on offer. No one could make the jump and the call went out to the public. Only one man took on the challenge and cleared all three horses with very little effort. Upon seeing the man completing the jump an officer immediately realised who this stranger was before his eyes. Naoise O’Haughian. Naoise was arrested, brought to Carrickfergus Castle and sentenced to death. He didn’t manage to slip the noose this time and was hanged in 1720, with his head being placed on a spike near that of his brother’s Shane Óg, who had been hanged two years earlier.

Dundermot Mound & the Phantom Coachman:

Moving westward toward Cullybackey, the landscape becomes one of ominous beauty. Just beyond lies Dundermot Mound, a site with one of the region’s most unsettling stories. In 1798, a mail coach driven by Thomas Meharg is said to have vanished into the mound during a ferocious storm. Ever since, his ghost has appeared to late-night travellers, asking one chilling question:

“Is the bridge at Glarryford down?”

Local belief warns: answer him, and you’ll be dead within the year. And that’s not all. Some say Dundermot is no mere burial mound—but a gateway to the underworld itself. Every so often, the portal opens, and creatures from the dark realms pull onlookers inside. Superstition? Perhaps. But no one lingers there after dark.

Galgorm Castle and Dr. Colville’s Pact with the Devil:

In Galgorm, one of Ballymena’s most enduring legends centres on Dr. Alexander Colville, a 17th-century clergyman and owner of Galgorm Castle. Colville was said to have made a pact with the Devil himself: in exchange for his soul, the Devil would fill a boot with gold. Ever the cunning man, Colville nailed the boot over a hole in the floor. The Devil kept pouring—and gold filled the entire house. When the time came to collect his soul, Colville doused a candle and clutched his Bible, tricking the Devil into retreat.

To this day, his ghost is said to haunt the halls, with visitors reporting phantom footsteps, flickering lights, and strange sounds. A portrait of Colville still hangs on site—and legend warns that if it’s ever removed, disaster will follow. Note I have worked as a photographer on an occasion, up on the top floor of Galgorm Castle and it has a chilling breathless atmosphere which was not welcoming and when we were finished, we left before dusk, and then I heard the story, not going back

The Gentle Spectre of Galgorm:

Not all spirits in Galgorm are malevolent. Some ghost-hunters have claimed to contact the spirit of a young girl, most notably during a paranormal investigation where she allegedly appeared—only after cameras stopped rolling and the team had fallen asleep. Soft footsteps, subtle touches, and flickering lights mark her presence.

The Headless Horseman of Crebilly Road:

One of Ballymena’s most fearsome phantoms rides out each Halloween night near the White Gates on Crebilly Road. Long ago, a robber fleeing the scene of a crime was decapitated by a wire strung between the gateposts. Every October 31st, his headless ghost is said to gallop through the gates, dragging any soul unfortunate enough to see him down into a nearby lake.

The story likely ties to the grave of Henry “Mad” O’Hara, the last squire of Craigbilly, whose broken tomb pillar symbolises a life cut short. Children growing up nearby spoke of terrifying walks to the gates on Halloween—stories passed from generation to generation like a cautionary tale.

The Ghost of Carrie at Tullyglass Hotel:

The elegant Tullyglass House Hotel hides a haunted past. Guests and staff alike have reported sightings of Carrie, the ghost of a young woman believed to have died in the bell tower centuries ago.

She is said to walk the corridors quietly, appearing briefly before fading into the walls, often around Halloween when spirits are most active.

Samhain, Fairies, and Protection Rituals:

During Samhain, people once left offerings of barmbrack, milk, salt, or oats outside their homes to appease the fairy folk. These weren’t the twinkly, glittery-winged fairies of children’s storybooks, but often mischievous or vengeful spirits with very long memories. Households hung iron charms, lit protective candles, or used Christian symbols to ward off malevolent visitations. Such traditions and rituals endure in quiet ways—burning candles in windows, blessing doorways, and leaving food for “unexpected visitors.” The sound of the wailing Banshee announcing an upcoming death, the mysterious black cat that appears, screaming in the darkness sending shivers down peoples backs and the tales told by the elders by the light of the fire flickering the orange light against the background of the full moon, during this time to put fear into the children and even the vulnerable adults, a little tipsy on autumn cider.