Helen’s Bridge Over College Street between Windswept Drive and Beaucatcher Road Asheville, North Carolina
I know your life on earth was troubled And only you could know the pain. You weren’t afraid to face the Devil You were no stranger to the rain. Go rest high on that mountain… –“Go rest high on that mountain,” Vince Gill (1995)
The city drops away quickly as you drive up Beaucatcher Mountain from downtown Asheville. College Street—a main thoroughfare through the heart of downtown, forming one side of Pack Square—suddenly becomes a mountain road. As it dizzily traverses the side of the mountain, the road enters a gap spanned by a lonely, primeval bridge. Something about the patina of the stone and the flora growing around the bridge, make it appear to be a natural part of the landscape, as if it’s always been there. In truth, it has been here for a little more than a hundred years, enough time for the bridge to settle into the landscape and become ensconced in legend and lore. You have arrived at Helen’s Bridge.
Helen’s Bridge, October 2012, by Lewis O. Powell IV. All rights reserved.
The temperature here seems chillier; perhaps it’s the geography or perhaps it’s the wandering spirit of Helen; it’s hard to tell. While many are drawn to the bridge’s stark beauty it is the legend and lore that draws others. The legend speaks of a woman named Helen who lived near the bridge with her beloved daughter. After losing her daughter in a fire, the distraught Helen hung herself from the bridge. Some versions associate Helen with the nearby estate of Zealandia, where she was supposed to have been a mistress to one of the estate’s owners, and after becoming pregnant, hung herself in anguish. Researchers have found nothing to document the existence of an actual Helen, although author Alan Brown relates that some of the owners of Zealandia encountered the apparition of a woman on the stairs that they identified as Helen.
Teens have taken to trying to summon Helen by visiting the bridge at night and calling her name three times. It is reported that she will sometimes appear as a light or as an apparition. Others have reported that this ritual will sometimes cause car problems, ranging from odd mechanical issues to dead batteries. Florida author, Jamie Roush Pearce experienced problems with her car’s automatic locks after visiting the bridge and attempting to summon the sad spirit. Pearce briefly glimpsed a figure near her car and discovered the problem with the locks after leaving the site. After dealing with the issue for a week, she returned and asked Helen to leave her car alone. The lock problem has not reoccurred.
The bridge is immortalized in Thomas Wolfe’s 1929 novel, Look Homeward, Angel, when the main character, Eugene Gant walks with his girlfriend up Beaucatcher Mountain:
They turned from the railing, with recovered wind, and walked through the gap, under Philip Roseberry’s great arched bridge… As they went under the shadow of the bridge Eugene lifted his head and shouted. His voice bounded against the arch like a stone. They passed under and stood on the other side of the gap, looking from the road’s edge down into the cove.
Though Wolfe attempted to draw a thin veil over his hometown by renaming it Altamont, it was clear to the Ashevillians that he was depicting them in his novel. So much so that he is reported to have received death threats and did not return to the city for several years after the novel’s publication.
This rustic stone bridge was constructed as a carriageway for the Zealandia Estate in 1909. It was designed by R. S. Smith, who worked as an architect on the building of the nearby Biltmore Estate and was obviously fluent in the languages of Gothic, Tudor, and Elizabethan architecture. In 1889, the same year that George Vanderbilt began construction on his magnificent manse that he would call Biltmore, John Evans Brown, who had spent his formative years in Asheville, began to build his estate here on Beaucatcher Mountain. Brown had left the city in 1849 to pursue his dreams of striking gold in the Golden West. When those dreams failed to pan out (pun intended), Brown set out for the green mountains of New Zealand where he found fortune in sheep and politics. He returned to his hometown with fortune in hand in 1888 and began construction on his estate.
Helen’s Bridge, December 2015, by Lewis O. Powell IV. All rights reserved.
Brown enjoyed his stately, mountainside view of Asheville for a few scant years before his death in 1895. The estate was purchased by Australian native Philip S. Henry in 1903 and this intellectual, art collector, and diplomat set about fashioning the estate into a showplace in this aristocratic resort community. Hiring architect R. S. Smith, Henry began to transform the lofty estate into a European-styled castle in the Tudor style. The carriageway with its notable bridge was constructed during this period. In 1924, Henry opened his estate for the public to see his art collection. Upon Henry’s death in 1933, the estate passed to his daughters and remained in the family until 1961.
When construction began on the nearby Interstate 240 corridor, plans originally called for slicing through part of Beaucatcher Mountain. Local preservationists quickly formed the Beaucatcher Mountain Defense Association to argue for the mountain’s preservation and even more specifically for the protection of Zealandia. A tunnel through the mountain was proposed instead. Though the state department of transportation tore down Philip Henry’s museum in 1976, the estate was named to the National Register of Historic Place in 1977 and was left alone. During the tunneling blasting supports were added to protect the bridge. In 1998 with the supports still in place and stones falling from the looming structure, the city considered demolishing the structure. Local history buffs and preservationists won the fight and the supports were carefully removed. The bridge was structurally sound and it has recently been bought by the city to use as part of a proposed greenway.
Helen’s Bridge, December 2015, by Lewis O. Powell IV. All rights reserved.
If you choose to visit Helen, be cautious as the area does have some traffic. There is a dirt turnout off Beaucatcher Road a few yards past the bridge ideal for parking. The top of the bridge is still closed off and Zealandia is private, so please confine your ramblings to the public thoroughfare underneath the bridge. Summoning spirits is never encouraged, especially if you wish to avoid car problems and please be kind to Helen, she’s been through a lot.
Helen’s Bridge, October 2012, by Lewis O. Powell IV. All rights reserved.
Sources
Bishir, Catherine W., Michael T. Southern, & Jennifer F. Martin. A Guide to the Historic Architecture of Western North Carolina. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1999.
Bordsen, John. “Find the most haunted place in these Carolina towns.” Dispatch-Argus. 31 October 2010.
Brendel, Susanne & Bettu Betz. National Register of Historic Places nomination form for Zealandia. 12 January 1977.
Brown, Alan. Stories from the Haunted South. Jackson, MS: University Press of Mississippi, 2004.
“Saving Helen’s Bridge.” Asheville Community News. 1999.
Pearce, Jamie Roush. Historic Haunts of the South. Jamie Roush Pearce, 2013.
Tomlin, Robyn. “Zealandia Bridge Repairs Completed; Fixing historic bridge cost much less than originally forecast.” Asheville Citizen-Times. 1 June 1999.
Warren, Joshua. Haunted Asheville. Johnson City, TN: Overmountain Press, 1996.
This entry was originally posted 16 January 2013, it has been edited and expanded a bit.
Bama Theatre
600 Greensboro Avenue
Tuscaloosa
Architect David O. Whilldin employed a theme of simplicity versus the exotic in his design for the Bama Theatre. The façade of the theatre utilizes limestone (a stone that may conduct paranormal energy) cut in the simplified geometry of Art Deco and Moderne lines. Step into the lobby, and a patron will find themselves immersed in the exuberance of an Italian Renaissance courtyard modeled on that of the Davanzati Palace in Florence. Perhaps Whilldin’s theme was meant to illustrate the condition of so many Americans during the Great Depression: leading simple and austere lives on the outside while their inner selves are vivacious, imaginative and highly cultured. Opening in 1938 and built with funds from the Works Progress Administration, the Bama Theatre can be considered one of the last of the great American atmospheric movie palaces.
Marquee of the Bama Theatre, 2010, by Carol M. Highsmith. Courtesy of the George F. Landegger Collection of Alabama Photographs in Carol M. Highsmith’s America, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
The identities of the spirits at the Bama Theatre are unknown. While research into the theatre’s past has revealed no deaths to link to the haunting, this may be a case of residual energy remaining after years of audiences and performers in the theatre. One particularly interesting story involves an employee who arrived early one morning. As he was making coffee, he heard the elevator moving. He stood at the doors expecting to greet the passenger, but when the doors opened, a blast of icy air greeted him, this is perhaps the most chilling of the paranormal events in this building.
Others working in the building have reported shadow figures, odd lights, and the distinct feeling of being watched. The building was probed by the Alabama Paranormal Research Team in recent years, though little evidence to support a haunting was uncovered.
Sources
Alabama Paranormal Research Team. Investigation Report on The Bama Theatre, Tuscaloosa, AL. Accessed 29 November 2012.
Higdon, David & Brett J. Talley. Haunted Tuscaloosa. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2012.
“History.” The Bama Theatre (bamatheatre.org). Accessed 4 March 2013.
Bluff Hall 405 North Commissioners Avenue Demopolis
The fortunes of Demopolis’ Lyon family reflect the rise and fall of the entire state during the 19th century. While the family owned a large plantation, Bermuda Hill, outside of town, it required a home in town for business and social functions. This home, Bluff Hall, was constructed in 1832 by Allen Glover for his daughter Sarah and her husband, Francis Strother Lyon.
Bluff Hall, 2008, by Altairisfar. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
The revised WPA guide to the state describes the house as “fortress-like in its strength and severity,” an apt description for the magnificently sited home. Occupying one of the bluffs above the Tombigbee River, the home illustrates the Lyon family’s remarkable and powerful position in the region. Francis Lyon, the home’s first owner, served in the Alabama State Senate, the U.S. House of Representatives, and the Confederate Congress, all the while running his plantation at Bermuda Hill. The home remained in the Lyon family until just after the turn of the 20th century when another family purchased it as a residence. The Marengo County Historical Society purchased the home in 1967 and restored it to its antebellum glory.
Since its purchase by the historical society, evidently no one had stayed the night in the home until 2003. A group of people staying overnight encountered odd sounds during the evening. When the President of the local Chamber of Commerce went to investigate, she was confronted with the apparition of a child on the stairs. Local historians have suggested that the child was the spirit of Leonidas Mecklenburg “Merk” Polk, Francis Lyon’s grandson and grandson to Confederate General Leonidas Polk, who passed away in the home of scarlet fever in 1877.
Sources
“Area rich in ghost stories, folk lore.” Demopolis Times. 30 October 2008.
Bluff Hall. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 14 December 2012.
Francis Strother Lyon. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 14 December 2012.
Hendrix, Barry H. “Image may have been real.” Demopolis Times. 5 November 2003.
Walker, Alyce Billings. ed. Alabama: A Guide to the Deep South, New Revised Edition. NYC: Hastings House, 1975.
Interstate 65 Between Evergreen and Greenville
This roughly 40-mile stretch of I-65 between Evergreen, in Conecuh County, and Greenville, in Butler County, is the setting for a legend. Like much of the state of Alabama, this area was initially part of the vast nation of the Muscogee, or Creek, people. After Alabama’s creation in 1819, land-hungry white pioneers flooded the area and tensions rose as the Muscogee watched the theft and degradation of their homeland. Skirmishes between the two groups brought violence and orders of removal from Washington. Thousands of Muscogees were forcibly removed from their rich and fertile homeland and resettled in the dry and barren Oklahoma territory.
The Muscogee left behind villages, farmland, hunting grounds, trails, and the bones of their ancestors. According to legend, I-65 cuts a swath through part of this sacred Muscogee territory and, as a result, this section of interstate is cursed. One commonly quoted statistic on this stretch of road states that “between 1984 and 1990, there were 519 accidents, 208 injuries, and 23 deaths on this 40-mile stretch of highway, though the road is straight, even, and well maintained.”
Many of these accidents are supposedly caused by something, possibly a human figure, darting across the road. A 2002 Birmingham News article says that Native American spirits have been seen in this area, “some as tall as 50 feet, towering over the pine trees in the interstate median.” Other reports involve mysterious, bright lights temporarily blinding drivers. Then again, this may just be another old Indian curse legend.
Sources
Granato, Sherri. “Haunted America: Interstate 65 in Evergreen, Alabama.” Yahoo Voices. 24 October 2011.
Hauck, Dennis William. Haunted Places: The National Directory. NYC: Penguin, 2002.
Haveman, Christopher. “Creek Indian Removal.” Encyclopedia of Alabama. 23 February 2012.
MacDonald, Ginny. “Boootiful Alabama: Don’t let night catch you driving alone.” Birmingham News. 31 October 2002.
N.B. This article was originally published 13 May 2015 as a single, massive article. It’s now broken up into three sections, South of Broad, North of Broad, and Charleston Environs, which have all been rearranged and revised for ease of use.
Known as the “Holy City” for the number of churches that raise their steeples above the city, Charleston, South Carolina is also known for its architecture, colonial and antebellum opulence, as well as its haunted places. This tour looks at the highlights among Charleston’s legends and ghostlore.
Broad Street cuts across the Charleston peninsula creating a dividing line between the most historic, moneyed, aristocratic portion of the city—located south of Broad—and everything else. For convenience, this tour is now divided into separate articles covering the area South of Broad, North of Broad, and the Environs. Locales in this article include places open to the public as well as private homes. For these private homes, please respect the privacy of the occupants, and simply view them from the street.
The tour is arranged alphabetically by street, with the sites in order by street address south to north and east to west.
As an introduction to the more mysterious, shadowy side of Charleston, the opening lines of Pat Conroy’s 1980 novel, The Lords of Discipline, provide a lush and succinct preface. The novel examines the triumph and cruelty of Charleston, and The Citadel (disguised as the “Carolina Military Institute”), Conroy’s alma mater.
The city of Charleston, in the green feathery modesty of its palms, in the certitude of its style, in the economy and stringency of its lines, and the serenity of its mansions South of Broad Street, is a feast for the human eye. But to me, Charleston is a dark city, a melancholy city, whose severe covenants and secrets are as powerful and beguiling as its elegance, who demons dance their alley dances and compose their malign hymns to the dark side of the moon I cannot see…
Though I will always be a visitor to Charleston, I will always remain one with a passionate belief that it is the most beautiful city in America and that to walk the old section of the city at night is to step into the bloodstream of a history extravagantly lived by a people born to a fierce and unshakable advocacy of their past. To walk in the spire-proud shade of Church Street is to experience the chronicle of a mythology that is particular to this city and this city alone, a trinitarian mythology with equal parts of the sublime, the mysterious, and the grotesque. But there is nothing to warn you of Charleston’s refined cruelty…
Entering Charleston is like walking through the brilliant carbon forest of a diamond with the light dazzling you in a thousand ways, an assault of light and shadow caused by light. The sun and the city have struck up an irreversible alliance.
Charleston Battery
Charleston Battery
On the Battery near the Edmondston-Alston House at 21 East Battery, a young woman encountered the apparition of a woman dressed in period clothing. James Caskey posits that the sad-faced apparition may very well have been the spirit of Theodosia Burr Alston, the daughter of Vice President Aaron Burr and wife of South Carolina Governor Joseph Alston. In 1812, Theodosia Burr Alston boarded the Patriot in Georgetown, SC as she headed north. The ship was never heard from again. Her spirit has been reported up and down the South Carolina coast.
Sources
Caskey, James. Charleston’s Ghosts: Hauntings in the Holy City. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2014.
20 South Battery (formerly Battery Carriage House Inn) 20 South Battery
The inn formerly known as the Battery Carriage House Inn is possibly one of the more spiritually active locations in the city. A few of the inn’s eleven sumptuous guest rooms are apparently haunted. A couple staying in room 3 were awakened by noise from a cellphone; while this may be quite common, phones are not supposed to make noise when powered off as this phone was.
Sign for the Battery Carriage House Inn, 2011, by Lewis Powell, IV. All rights reserved.
This activity seems minor compared to the reports from rooms 8 and 10. Guests staying in Room 8 have encountered the apparition of a man’s torso. There is no head or limbs, just a torso dressed in a few layers of clothing. One guest sensed that this figure was quite negative. The spirit in Room 10 is much more pleasant and even described as a gentleman. The innkeepers believe this may be the spirit of the son of a former owner who committed suicide.
Sources
“Ghost Sightings.” Battery Carriage House Inn. Accessed 31 October 2010.
Kermeen, Francis. Ghostly Encounters: True Stories of America’s Haunted Hotels and Inns. NYC: Warner Books, 2002.
Spar, Mindy. “Local haunts among treats for Halloween.” The Post and Courier. 26 October 2002
Ward, Kevin Thomas. South Carolina Haunts. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 2014.
There are questions as to just how old this little building is. Some sources argue that it may well be one of the oldest buildings in the city, while others argue that it only dates to the early 19th century. Regardless, this building can claim an inordinate amount of history, mostly as a tavern and coffeehouse, as well as ghosts.
One owner spotted the specter of an 18th century gentleman walking through the back door of the building. Later, his vision was confirmed by a psychic visitor who saw the same gentleman and several other spirits lingering here.
Sources
Caskey, James. Charleston’s Ghosts: Hauntings in the Holy City. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2014.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
Exchange Building and Provost Dungeon 122 East Bay Street
One of the most important and historic buildings in the city, the Exchange Building, was constructed in the late 1760s to support the trade occurring in this, the wealthiest of colonial cities. The building was built on top of the old Half Moon Battery, a section of the original city wall. During the American Revolution, the dungeon held many of Charleston’s most prominent Patriot citizens. In 1791, this building hosted a ball for President George Washington.
It seems that the souls of some of the people imprisoned in the dungeon still stir. Ghost tours passing through the dungeon at night report that the chains used to guard exhibits swing on their own, while visitors take photographs with anomalies quite regularly. Cries and moans have been heard here and Alan Brown reports that some woman have been attacked here. One hapless female visitor was pushed up against a wall while another felt hands around her neck.
Sources
Brown, Alan. Haunted South Carolina. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 2010.
Pickens, Cathy. Charleston Mysteries: Ghostly Haunts in the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2007.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
Church Street
Thomas Rose House 59 Church Street, private
This circa 1735 home may have never been occupied by Thomas Rose, who built the house. However, this house did serve as the residence of Dr. Joseph Ladd, a poet and physician, who was killed in a duel in Philadelphia Alley (see that listing in the North of Broad section) with his friend, Ralph Isaacs. The argument grew out of a misunderstanding; but after playing out in the local newspapers, it ended in a duel in October of 1786. Ladd, who had the habit of whistling, continues to be heard in the house as well as in the alley where he met the grim specter of death.
Sources
Brown, Alan. Haunted South Carolina. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 2010.
Pickens, Cathy. Charleston Mysteries: Ghostly Haunts in the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2007.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
Legare Street
Simmons-Edwards House 14 Legare Street, private
Simmons-Edwards House, 2011. Photo by Lewis O. Powell IV, all rights reserved.
Just outside of Francis Simmons’ old home (see the Simmons Gateposts, 131 Tradd Street for more information on this gentleman) a shadowy couple has been reported walking hand in hand on the street. Their identity is unknown.
Sources
Graydon, Nell S. South Carolina Ghosts. Beaufort, SC: Beaufort Book Shop. 1969.
Pickens, Cathy. Charleston Mysteries: Ghostly Haunts in the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2007.
Hannah Heyward House 31 Legare Street, private
Hannah Heyward House, 2011. Photo by Lewis O. Powell, IV. All rights reserved.
This simple, but elegant villa-styled house was built in 1789. After Mrs. Heyward’s son, James, left one morning for a hunting trip, she encountered him sitting quietly in the library later that afternoon. When she inquired among the servants when her son had arrived, no one seemed to have seen him. Later that evening some of James’ friends arrived with his lifeless body. Ever since, residents of the home have occasionally seen James sitting in the library.
Sources
Graydon, Nell S. South Carolina Ghosts. Beaufort, SC: Beaufort Book Shop. 1969.
Martin, Margaret Rhett. Charleston Ghosts. Columbia, SC University of South Carolina Press, 1963.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
Sword Gate House 32 Legare Street, private
The titular gates of the Sword Gate House, 2011. Photo by Lewis O. Powell IV, all rights reserved.
In the dark of night, a spirit still prowls the halls of the magnificent house that stands beyond these iron gates wrought with swords. The gates were originally created to be used outside the city’s guardhouse; but were purchased by Madame Talvande to guard her students after the city rejected the gates as too expensive. Even after the closure of the elite boarding school, legend speaks of Madame Talvande remaining here in spirit to see that her students remain moral and chaste.
Sources
Brown, Alan. Haunted South Carolina. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 2010.
Martin, Margaret Rhett. Charleston Ghosts. Columbia, SC University of South Carolina Press, 1963.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
Meeting Street
Daniel Huger House 34 Meeting Street, private
While this mid-18th century home sustained little damage during the Great Charleston Earthquake of 1886, a young, English visitor to the home was killed on the front steps. This area is prone to earthquakes and the quake that struck the city in 1886 caused massive damage throughout the city. The young man visiting the Huger (pronounced HEW-jee) family here fled the house when the shaking began. As he stood on the front steps a piece of molding from the roof struck him on the head, killing him. He may be the cause of mysterious rapping on the front door prior to earthquakes.
Sources
Buxton, Geordie & Ed Macy. Haunted Harbor: Charleston’s Maritime Ghosts and the Unexplained. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2005.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
James Simmons House 37 Meeting Street, private
This house has been named “The Bosoms” because of its bowed front and you may giggle at the silliness of that. The house was built, without bosoms, in the mid-18th century and alterations in the 1840s added the namesake bays. Legend holds that a pirate buried treasure near this house and shot one of his men at the site. The “white, blurry silhouette” of that man has been seen near the house.
Sources
Buxton, Geordie & Ed Macy. Haunted Harbor: Charleston’s Maritime Ghosts and the Unexplained. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2005.
Caskey, James. Charleston’s Ghosts: Hauntings in the Holy City. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2014.
Pickens, Cathy. Charleston Mysteries: Ghostly Haunts in the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2007.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
St. Michael’s Rectory 76 Meeting Street, private
St. Michael’s Alley, running alongside St. Michael’s Church’s churchyard to Church Street, was the scene of a duel in 1786 that left one young man with mortal wounds. Aroused by the commotion outside his house, Judge Elihu Hall Bay, a noted Charleston jurist, ordered the man’s companions to bring him into the house. Fearing that they could face consequences for their involvement with the dual, the young men fled after seeing their wounded friend into the house. The young man passed away in the house.
It was reported that the commotion of the men bringing their wounded friend inside and then hurriedly fleeing was heard in the house on a regular basis. It has been noted, however, that since the home was converted to use as a church rectory in 1942, the sounds have ceased.
Sources
Caskey, James. Charleston’s Ghosts: Hauntings in the Holy City. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2014.
Pickens, Cathy. Charleston Mysteries: Ghostly Haunts in the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2007.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church 80 Meeting Street
St. Michael’s, 2011. Photo by Lewis O. Powell, IV. All rights reserved.
Step inside the cool sanctuary of this mid-18th century church and be on the lookout for a spectral bride. Legend speaks of Harriet Mackie who was supposedly poisoned on her wedding day and remains here in her wedding dress. For more information see my article, “The Ghastly Bell-Ringer and Bride.”
Sources
Pickens, Cathy. Charleston Mysteries: Ghostly Haunts in the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2007.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston: A Guide to the City’s Architecture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1997.
Tradd Street
Simmons Gateposts 131 Tradd Street
Simmons Gateposts, 2011. Photo by Lewis O. Powell, IV. All rights reserved.
These gateposts, marking where Ruth Lowndes Simmons’ home once stood, serve as sentinels to remind us of a tragic love story. While Ruth Lowndes was from a noble Charleston family, she was almost a spinster when she married Francis Simmons, a wealthy planter. Simmons provided his wife with a fine house here, though he had his own home on nearby Legare Street. When their separate carriages would pass, the couple would rise and bow to the other. An old Charleston legend says that the sounds of a horse and carriage are heard here. James Caskey reports that he felt the rush of air and smelled the odor of sweaty horses as he visited these gateposts at night.
Sources
Caskey, James. Charleston’s Ghosts: Hauntings in the Holy City. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2014.
Graydon, Nell S. South Carolina Ghosts. Beaufort, SC: Beaufort Book Shop. 1969.
Pickens, Cathy. Charleston Mysteries: Ghostly Haunts in the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2007.
Lately, I’ve been enjoying exploring a new resource, Newspapers.com. A subsidiary of Ancestry.com, the site provides historic newspapers from the early 18th century virtually to the modern day. Though the coverage is inconsistent—rarely complete runs of newspapers are provided and their holdings of Deep South papers are poor—there are still 64 million, plus pages of newspapers to search.
Newspapers of the 19th and early 20th were more apt to report on supernatural events and that’s true in this case from Salisbury, North Carolina. On September 1, 1898, The Hickory Press in Hickory, North Carolina—a little more than 50 miles away—picked up this item from the Salisbury Sun.
A genuine ghost was seen on Fisher Street last night. It was discovered by Theo. Hartman, in his room and made its way from the room to the street below by going through the second story window. On the street it was seen by a lady who happened to look out the front door of her house while his ghostship was resting on the fence. The ghost was very tall and perfectly white.
Besides the almost tongue in cheek humor of referring to the ghost as “his ghostship,” this note is very interesting. The movement of the ghost from a room, through the window and down to the street is odd. Generally ghosts are bound to move as living beings. Modern ghost hunters surmise that when ghosts do walk through walls or doors, they are usually following a path available to them in life—i.e. using doors that have since been walled up.
Of course, this is a single event and no information is provided as to if this is a regular occurrence. In a search for information about ghosts on Fisher Street I did come across a listing on a site called ParanormalHotspots.com. The site claims to provide information on haunted businesses directly from the business owners and subsequently has few listings. The only listing for the state of North Carolina is the, now defunct, Brick Street Tavern on East Fisher Street.
Fisher Street is now delineated as East Fisher and West Fisher with Main Street as the dividing line. The 100 block of East Fisher appears to be lined with mostly late 19th and early 20th century commercial buildings and Brick Street Tavern was located at number 122. According to the history at ParanormalHotspots, a large house was on this site in 1885 that may have been a flop house. The current structure was erected in 1912 as part of a wholesale goods company. It has served a variety of uses since that time. Reported activity at the location includes objects moving, apparitions, shadow people and a number of EVPs that have been captured.
With the information provided in the article it is difficult to know if “his ghostship” is still around or if he is responsible for activity at the Brick Street Tavern. If he is, next time I’m in Salisbury, I’ll be sure to buy “his ghostship” a drink.
Haunted Pillar North Corner, Intersection of Broad and 5th Streets Augusta, Georgia
“If you wouldn’t mind,” I explained to my boyfriend, “I’d like to get my picture in front of the pillar, but I won’t touch it. Supposedly, if you touch it, you die. And I’m far too superstitious to risk it.”
“Well, he’s not,” my boyfriend said looking towards the infamous “Haunted Pillar.” Glancing across the street, I saw a young boy casually passing the landmark and running his hand along it as he passed. He seemed totally unaffected by the curse.
After dodging traffic, we finally crossed the street and approached the curious landmark. There’s not much to it, though it’s a bit taller than I assumed from pictures. Given its sinister name and legendary history, I expected something more frightening. Other than being located on a section of Broad Street that was dodgy, the pillar looks rather forlorn and innocent. Just behind it is a tattoo parlor bearing the name of the accursed column with a gaudy sign painted above it.
The Haunted Pillar with the Haunted Pillar Tattoo Shop behind it. Photo 2014, by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
The drab gray pillar glowers sourly in the middle of the sidewalk like a grumpy old man. After the rough history it has witnessed, I’m sure I’d glower too.
The pillar once proudly stood as part of the Old Lower Market in the middle of Broad Street. Built around 1830, Augusta’s market consisted of two buildings, two hundred feet long by one hundred feet wide. Under its expansive roof, agricultural goods were sold and traded; trade that possibly included slaves. As with any place that’s been tainted by the stench of slavery, the pillar’s history, both factual and legendary, still reeks with it. The historic marker near the pillar makes no statement as to the selling of slaves in the market but other sources involve the pillar with the inglorious industry.
Slavery is alluded to in the account of the Haunted Pillar collected in the mid to late 1930s by the WPA’s Writers’ Project. It mentions that at one point the pillar bore the handprint of a slave. Scott A. Johnson in his The Stately Ghosts of Augusta (2005) suggests that the pillar may have possibly been part of the slave-trading platform. Sean Joiner in his Haunted Augusta & Local Legends (2002) goes further by suggesting that the pillar’s curse may be “the residue of a curse being uttered by a man being sold into slavery.”
However, this is where slavery’s involvement in the story ends and the general legend takes up, jumping to the late 1870s. According to the legend, shortly before the night of February 8, 1878, an itinerant preacher began exhorting sinners within the market. Perhaps his condemnations drowned out the cries of vendors or his strong words upset customers, for whatever reason he was asked to leave. Before leaving, he warned those within earshot that a great storm would smash the building but leave one column standing. Anyone attempting to move that lone column would most surely die.
In the early morning hours of February 8, 1878, the market’s destruction commenced as a rare mid-winter tornado ripped through downtown Augusta. In the flowery language of the period, Patrick Walsh, editor of The Augusta Chronicle editorialized: “While thousands slept in what seemed perfect security, tremendous agencies of destruction were abroad on the wings of the wind, and but for the mercy of heaven, few of the slumberers would have escaped.” Indeed, two slumberers did not escape and were killed a short distance from where the Broad Street sentinel now stands.
Later that day, the Chronicle reported that the market was a “heap of ruins.” “The whole roof of the structure was thrown into a mass of ruins. Timbers were broken and many piled in utter confusion.” With a dramatic flourish, the reporter added that the market’s bell rang out as it crashed to the ground. Opinions on the market were quite strong as evidenced in papers published later that week: “It was, at best, an unsightly edifice and marred the grand boulevard upon which it was mistakenly located.”
But, among the broken timbers and toppled brick, the pillar remained standing like a scolding finger. At this point, the column’s history becomes murky again. Jim Miles writes in his 2000 book, Weird Georgia, that a local grocer, Theodore Eye of Lavasseur & Eye paid workmen to move the column the year after the market’s destruction. As the workmen began, a young boy set off a firecracker scaring the workers (and the horses as well, I imagine). The effort was abandoned.
Other attempts to move the column are not as well documented and include workmen being struck and killed by lightning while trying to move the column during a road-widening project. Another story mentions a bulldozer operator suddenly dying of a heart attack just as he begins moving towards the column. Like most legends, these are just embellishments that beef up the story.
The historic marker erected to briefly outline the pillar’s history mentions that the pillar has moved successfully at least once during its history. From other sources, it appears it has been moved a number of times. A 1997 article from The Atlanta Journal and The Atlanta Constitution quotes the owner of a business across the street from the pillar as noting that “it’s been moved several times because it was too close to the street.”
The historic marker located at the original site of the pillar, in the median of Broad Street. Photo 2014 by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
Still, there seems to be a mythos surrounding the cracking brick and cement creation. On two occasions, the pillar has been nearly demolished. In 1935, the pillar was struck by an automobile, but the driver was not injured. In 1958, on a Friday the 13th, the pillar was knocked over by a large bale of cotton from a truck. Again, the driver was uninjured. That incident led city leaders to move the pillar eight feet back from the street.
While the stories of deaths associated with the pillar seem to be urban legends, Jim Miles does note that there is apparently paranormal activity associated with the pillar. This includes the sounds of “whispered conversations between phantoms and footsteps of invisible beings pacing alongside.” The grim structure also seems to attract bad luck. The 1997 AJC article notes that the local sheriff counted eleven traffic accidents over the course of ten months of that year at the intersection where the pillar stands. The sense of bad luck was so forbidding that a group of people gathered that January to surround the pillar in an attempt to pray away the evil that dwelled there.
While most locals scoff at the legend they still don’t touch it.
Posing with the pillar. I didn’t touch it. Photo 2014 by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
Both my boyfriend and I posed next to the pillar, but we also took care not to touch it. Neither of us needs any more bad luck in our lives.
Update 31 December 2016
It’s seemingly been a bad year for everyone. Even haunted places have had a terrible year as demonstrated by Augusta, Georgia’s Haunted Pillar. In the early morning hours of December 18, the pillar was struck by a vehicle and toppled into a pile of broken brick and mortar.
Taking cues from the Augusta Convention and Visitors Bureau and other local organizations, money is being collected to rebuild the pillar. While the pillar and its lingering curse has served for years as a bleak reminder of oppression, death, and destruction, we can take hope from its story. The pillar’s recent toppling is not the first time it has been toppled. Every time it has been damaged, locals have banded together to restore and rebuild this odd monument.
Update 5 July 2018
The remains of the Haunted Pillar are lingering in a city storage facility. The location of this curiosity is haunted by a pedestrian orange cone. The last word from local media regarding the landmark’s fate states that some city workers are still afraid to touch it and that it will eventually be restored. Hopefully, the columns will be restored to its rightful position as a pillar of the community.
Southern legends and lore are filled with tales of “Cry Baby” and other haunted bridges. Some are modern highway bridges while others are ancient, rickety affairs, perhaps even a historic covered bridge, on lonely dirt roads in the woods. Regardless, stories have become attached to these bridges. Some of the tales are typical: either a mother, an infant or both die in an accident in this lonely spot, thus haunting the place until peace may be found in the afterlife. Another typical version has the mother dropping her infant into the waters under the bridge as she is unable to care for the child. Other bridges are the scenes of deadly accidents, the dumping ground for murder victims. Occasionally rituals appear in these legends with those wishing to encounter the spirit stopping their car on the bridge, bringing candy, flashing headlights, sounding the horn or perhaps calling the name of a particular spirit.
The Decatur Daily of Decatur, Alabama reported on one of its local cry baby bridges, this one located in Morgan County, near Hartselle. Sadly, the article only promotes the legends surrounding the location and provides no information to prove or disprove them.
A sign for US-31 in Alabama. Photo 2017, by formulaone, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The old bridge on Kayo Road, off US-31, is an unkempt, lonely, and apparently a little used bridge. From some of the photographs circulating the internet, it appears that trash has been dumped along the road, though the bridge may also be popular with fisherman. The article describes a local ghost hunting team, Paranormal Research Alliance of Cullman, who investigated the bridge both at night and during the day. The team did feel uneasy at the location, though this is not a true sign of a haunting. Video taken at the bridge had possible moaning or talking in the background, though this may simply be the sound of cars from US-31 some two miles away. Otherwise, the team did not capture any conclusive evidence that there may be paranormal activity in the location.
There seems to be no lack of stories about the desolate bridge. Many of the typical cry baby bridge stories have been applied including a mother losing an infant in an accident at the site, though, as I mentioned above, the article provides no evidence if any of these things actually occurred. The other primary legend associated with the bridge is that of a serial killer who supposedly operated in the area by the name of Frank Hammond or Hammon.
The article includes a story (from the internet, imagine that!) that speaks of Mr. Hammond’s activities in the 1940s. Gory details such as living quarters with human skins tacked to the walls and a family being brutally murdered one by one with the child witnessing his parents’ deaths before being beaten to death with a hammer are included. The killer was finally caught and died in a Georgia prison by his own hand. One would think his heinous activities would have him serving in Alabama prison for many decades before serving time in neighboring Georgia. While the details make for a memorable story, they just don’t all add up. There is no evidence that this particular serial killer existed, except in the minds of storytellers. Indeed, it seems that serial killers are far less common than urban legends and lore indicate.
Jessica Penot explores this location in her book, Haunted North Alabama. In gathering stories for the book, she encountered a multitude of origins for this legendary location. According to her, the story may predate European settlement of the region and one story involves a local native woman whose child was swept away by flooding during torrential rains. She also notes that some versions of the legend for this spot include bringing candy bars which may be left to appease the spirit.
It does appear that these stories seem to be told about lonely and desolate places. These places tend to spawn urban legends (or perhaps “rural legends” given this specific location). Is there activity at this old bridge on Kayo Road? Perhaps, but the legend is still interesting in spite of it.
Sources
Hill, Jennifer R. “Hartselle’s haunting: Cry Baby Hollow: Urban legend or forgotten truth?” Decatur Daily. 31 October 2012.
Penot, Jessica. Haunted North Alabama. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2010.
West Virginia Route 901 Near Spring Mills Plantation Berkeley County, West Virginia
In the recent past a couple was driving Route 901 near Spring Mills Plantation late one evening in October. Near Harlan Run the couple entered a bank of fog and the interior of the car became quite cold. The fog began to take on a greenish hue and suddenly, the car came to a stop; the engine went dead and the headlights shut off. The couple was left in cold, silent darkness.
From out of the darkness the couple was stunned to see the form of a bedraggled Confederate soldier appear. He held his back as if he’d been wounded and he appeared to notice the couple as he neared the front of their car. With a thump he laid his hands on the hood and peered pleadingly before collapsing leaving bloody handprints on the car. The husband opened his door and walked to the front of the car to help the pathetic figure who now lay prone in the roadway. When he reached out to the poor soldier the figure disappeared along with the bloody handprints. The couple quickly left vowing never to drive that stretch of road in the dark.
Spring Mills Historic District near the roadway where the spirit of a soldier has been seen. Photo 2013, by Dgaviria. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
So far I’ve found this story repeated, with some different details, in two sources. There also seems to be some argument as to the exact location of this incident. Walter Gavenda and Michael T. Shoemaker in their 2001 A Guide to Haunted West Virginia provide the most exact location, on Route 901 just over Harlan Run near Spring Mills Plantation. Patty A. Wilson’s 2007 Haunted West Virginia places the story on Route 11, which is described as the “Highway of Bones” due to the many deaths along its run during the Civil War. Gavenda and Shoemaker also state that a noted West Virginia folklorist has recorded a handful of similar stories from this location. This area was certainly the scene of activity during the Civil War.
The area around Harlan Run is listed on the National Register of Historic Places as the Spring Mills Historic District. This district is comprised of seven different structures including a late 18th century mill, a few houses, Falling Waters Presbyterian Church and its cemetery. Together these buildings remain as an example of a small rural hamlet in the early 19th century. Indeed, they may have also played a part in the conflicts in the region during the Civil War.
According to the National Register of Historic Places nomination form for the historic district, the area did not see any actual fighting, though it may have been used frequently for encampments with the nearby Dr. Hammond House serving as headquarters for a few generals on both sides. Still, this does not explain the frightening apparition in the road, but it does make for a wonderful story. Nor is this the first roadside revenant in the region. These type stories are found associated with many of West Virginia’s winding mountain roads and extending throughout the rural South.
Sources
Gavenda, Walter and Michael T. Shoemaker. A Guide to Haunted West Virginia. Glen Ferris, WV: Peter’s Creek Publishing, 2001.
Taylor, David L. National Register of Historic Places form for the Spring Mills Historic District. October 2003.
Wilson, Patty A. Haunted West Virginia: Ghosts and Strange Phenomena of the Mountain State. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 2007.
The view of White Point Gardens looking down South Battery towards East Battery. Photo 2011, by Lewis Powell, IV, all rights reserved.
Throughout the South history creates layers. In some places there are literal layers that an archaeologist may sift through, in other places those layers can be formed through names; names that may span the centuries from the present day to another historical layer many centuries earlier. The Charleston Battery is one of those places with a few layers of names. I’ve encountered so many different names for this location; I’m not sure which is really correct. Wikipedia calls it The Battery and says that White Point Gardens is a part of that. I’ll just stick with that. A Post & Courier article from 2001 adds that even the use of “Gardens” (plural) as opposed to “Garden” (singular) is inconsistent. Nevertheless, the jumble of names adds to the layers of history that have accrued here.
In April of 1670 when the 93 passengers aboard the Carolina first sailed into what would be called Charleston Harbor, they were greeted by the tip of a peninsula at the point where two mighty rivers came together. The ship’s captain knew one of the rivers as the Ashley, as he had accompanied the earlier expedition that had named the river for Lord Anthony Ashley Cooper, one of the colony’s Lord Proprietors. The local Native Americans called the river Kiawah (which is now applied to a barrier island south of the city), and the Spanish had called it the San Jorge. At the tip of this peninsula was a Native American oyster shell midden, or trash heap. Over time, this point would be called alternately Oyster Point, or White Point, for the sun-bleached oyster shells piled there.
Initially, the settlers landed and began to build their city, named for King Charles I, on the opposite bank of the Ashley River on what would later be called Old Town Creek. Colonel William Sayle, the colony’s first governor saw the strategic importance of the peninsula’s tip, however. “It is as it were a Key to open and shutt [sic] this settlement into safety or danger,” he stated in a letter to Lord Ashley, and he began to grant land to settlers in this area. In 1679, it was decided that Oyster Point and the Cooper River side of the peninsula was a much better place for a town.
Guns and defenses on the Battery during the Civil War. This 1863 photo from The Photographic History of the Civil War (1911).
Throughout its three hundred some-odd years of existence, White Point Gardens has seen a variety of uses. It has been covered with shacks and tenements, served the defense of the city, been created as a pleasure park, and as a place for execution. Walter Fraser, Jr. in his Charleston! Charleston! The History of a Southern City, describes a storm surge sweeping over White Point during the Hurricane of 1752, with the poor people escaping their shacks there for more substantial shelter. Following the hurricane, the White Point remained “a desolate Spot” until 1770 when the low marshy areas were filled in and elegant homes began to be built there along with a sea wall on the eastern side created with palmetto logs. This held until 1804 when it was swept away by another hurricane and it was replaced with a wall of ballast stone.
It was in the space created here that open-air concerts were given during the summer months. When the British blockaded Charleston Harbor during the War of 1812, fifteen guns of large caliber were placed along the White Point aimed at the harbor and the point began to be known as The Battery.
The ruins of houses along the Battery in 1865 by George N. Barnard.
Following the war, this pleasant point was planted with oaks and gained the name White Point Gardens during a major period of building in the late 1830s. When English actress Fanny Kemble, who married Georgia cotton planter Pierce Butler, visited the city she delighted in the promenade and the “large and picturesque old houses.” Fraser notes that in the 1840s, African-Americans were not allowed to use the park between five and ten in the evening.
From this promenade and roofs of the pretentious mansions lining the battery, the citizens of Charleston witnessed the first shots of the Civil War as Confederate attacked Fort Sumter in the harbor. Gunfire from ships during the war destroyed some of those mansions, but they were later rebuilt even more ostentatiously. The tradition of promenading along the seawall and under the sprawling live oaks continued into the 20th century. The 1941 Works Progress Administration guide to the state of South Carolina describes the scene of “Charleston children, guarded by white-turbaned Negro ‘maumas,’ play[ing] among monuments and guns that recall the city’s war-torn history of more than 250 years.”
A monument under the cooling shade of the oaks. Photo by Brian Stansberry, 2010, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Today tourists stroll the Battery and under those oaks. They may pass a stone monument reminding them of the fact that they stand on an execution ground. In fact, this spot may still be haunted by those who hung here in 1718, when Charleston was still a small colonial port. Over the course of five weeks that year some 49 men were hung here for piracy.
As the colonies grew, piracy became a major problem for trade and many of the up and coming ports. Around late May or June of 1718, the notorious Edward Teach, or Blackbeard as he is more affectionately known, blockaded Charleston Harbor. Among the first ships he captured was a London-bound ship called the Crowley loaded with a number of prominent citizens. Word was sent to the Royal Governor that these people would be summarily executed unless the port offered up medical supplies. The governor complied and the citizens were released, though lightened of their purses, valuables, and even their clothes.
Stede Bonnet from A General History of the Pyrates, c. 1725.
In response, Governor Robert Johnson asked the Lord Proprietors for assistance, but received no response. When pirates again appeared in the waters near Charleston in August, a group of local merchants banded together and under the command of William Rhett, they set out to stop this threat to their business. In the waters of North Carolina, they encountered pirate Stede Bonnet refitting his ship in the Cape Fear River.
Stede Bonnet wasn’t born into a life of crime. The son of a wealthy English family on the island of Barbados, Bonnet had had a fairly successful life which enabled him to buy his way into piracy. It was the usual custom for pirates to begin their work by seizing a ship that they then used to prey on other ships, Bonnet, however, bought his ship, the Revenge. He also hired his crew and paid them regular wages. Due to lack of experience in sailing or piracy, Bonnet had to hire someone to command his men. After terrorizing shipping off the Virginia coast, Bonnet sailed for the pirate’s paradise of Nassau in the Bahamas. There, he met Blackbeard and decided to join forces.
After a night of maneuvering sloops back and forth to gain advantage in battle, the sun rose on the morning of September 27, 1718 with Bonnet sailing his one sloop, he had combined all of his men into one ship from three, towards the three sloops under Colonel Rhett. Nearly all the ship ran aground during the battle with a rising tide eventually freeing Rhett’s vessels, while Bonnet’s sloop, the Royal James, remained stuck. The Royal James was quickly boarded by Rhett’s men who outnumbered the pirates. In a last ditch effort, Bonnet ordered his gunner to blow up the ship’s powder stores, but this suicidal act was prevented by Bonnet’s men who surrendered instead. Rhett returned triumphantly to Charleston with Bonnet and twenty-nine of his men in chains.
In Charleston, Bonnet’s men were imprisoned in the Half-Moon Battery where the Exchange and Provost Dungeon were later constructed, and still stands today. Because of his gentlemanly upbringing, Bonnet was imprisoned with his boatswain, Ignatius Pell, in the home of the town’s Provost Marshall. Shortly thereafter, Bonnet and Pell, accompanied by a slave and a Native American, escaped the house possibly disguised as women, at least according to legend. The group however, wasn’t able to go very far and had only gotten as far as Sullivan’s Island, north of the city, when they were captured. Bonnet and his men were put on trial before Vice-Admiralty judge, Nicholas Trott and found guilty.
Monument in White Point Gardens near the spot of the pirate gallows. Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.
Bonnet’s own men were hung at White Point, two days before his trial, and their bodies left dangling from the gallows before the bloated, decaying corpses were cut down and unceremoniously dumped in the marsh just off the point. Those same marshes that would later be filled in for the building of homes. Reportedly, Bonnet begged for clemency and turned much of the Charleston female population to his side, so much so that the governor had to delay the execution seven times. Even Colonel Rhett offered help by escorting Bonnet to England for a new trial, but Judge Trott’s decision stood firm.
During the time between Bonnet being found guilty and his execution, 19 other pirates were found guilty and hung at White Point. Bonnet’s day of execution finally dawned on December 10. Walter Fraser describes the scene:
…manacled and clutching a nosegay of wildflowers, [he] was taken in a hurdle to the place execution near White Point where the once bold pirate appeared terrified and near collapse. The executioner dropped the noose over his head and around his neck and then Bonnet was ‘swung off’ the cart. He died an agonizing death of strangulation, the invention of the gallows that would break the victim’s neck being years away.
His body was left hanging for a few days then unceremoniously dumped in the marsh with the remains of his men and his pirate brothers where they were eaten by crabs, riddled with maggots, and pecked by the gulls.
The hanging of Stede Bonnet from the Dutch edition of A General History of the Pyrates,c. 1725.
Over the course of five weeks, forty-nine pirates swung from the gallows at White Point. Within a couple months, pirate Richard Worley and nineteen of his men met the same fate. While the leaves of White Point Gardens’ oaks calmly sway in the ocean breeze, their roots are feeding on the blood of pirates.
The view from South Battery towards Charleston Harbor. Photo 2011, by Lewis Powell, IV, all rights reserved.
There is a legend that the spirits of these pirates still stalk Battery Park and White Point Gardens. Denise Roffe includes a story of a couple who encountered an apparition hanging in midair beneath the oaks of the park. Alan Brown mentions that the spirits have been witnessed standing under the oaks and screaming at passersby. He notes that if one looks out on the bay from the foot of Water Street, where Vanderhorst Creek once met the waters of the Cooper River, when the moon is high, they may see the bloated faces of the long dead pirates just under the water’s surface. Like so many Charleston ghost stories, this story may be mostly legend, but it is grounded in a marvelous history.
Do pirate spirits still walk here? Photo 2011, by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
In this sylvan landscape do pirate spirits hang midair? Photo 2011, by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
Blackbeard. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 1 August 2011.
Brown, Alan. Haunted South Carolina: Ghosts and Strange Phenomena of the Palmetto State. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 2010.
Fraser, Walter J., Jr. Charleston! Charleston! The History of a Southern City. Columbia, SC: U. of SC Press, 1989.
Hardin, Jason. “You can say it with an ‘S,’ but early documents show there is just one garden.” Post & Courier. 2 September 2001.
Richard Worley. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 1 August 2011.
Roffe, Denise. Ghosts and Legends of Charleston, South Carolina. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 2010.
Stede Bonnet. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 1 August 2011.
Workers of the Writer’s Program of the Works Progress Administration in the State of South Carolina. South Carolina: A Guide to the Palmetto NYC: Oxford University Press, 1941.
N.B. This article was edited and revised 2 September 2020.
Though I haven’t really touched on it much yet, the geographical region for this blog includes the District of Columbia. When it was established in 1790, the district was not based in a specific state and instead is under the direct supervision of the Federal Government. With the drama that has and continues to occur in this monumental city, it’s no surprise that there are spiritual remnants. The spirits of past presidents, politicians and their families, civil servants and common people are found throughout the city, from the White House to the Capitol and beyond.
Congressional Cemetery 1801 E Street, SE
Congressional Cemetery, 2008. Photo by AgnosticPreachersKid, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Established as a private burying ground in 1807, this cemetery was later deemed the Washington Parish Burial Ground. About ten years later, space was designated for the burial of government officials and legislators. Cenotaphs, monuments to persons buried elsewhere, were also erected here to memorialize certain notables. Over time, as the burial spot for many of Washington’s elite, this became known as the Congressional Cemetery, though it was not officially a congressional entity.
Among the many famous people who rest here are three who are believed to remain in this plane of existence. John Philip Sousa, was a bandleader and composer known for such patriotic standards as The Washington Post March and Stars and Stripes Forever, he also invented the sousaphone, a type of marching tuba. Legend has it that the bass tones of a sousaphone are sometimes heard around Sousa’s grave.
Famed Civil War-era photographer Mathew Brady, whose stunning images captured the horrors of war is also buried here. After the war, Brady expected that the government would purchase his photographs. When they declined to do so, Brady was left in a penurious state. After being forced to sell his New York studio, he died penniless. His spirit has been reported wandering among the graves of some of those same government officials who denied him compensation.
In 1824, Choctaw Chief Pushmataha, considered by some historians to be the greatest of the chiefs to serve this particular tribe, journeyed to Washington to argue against further concessions of his tribal lands. While on this trip, he fell ill and died and was given full military honors in his burial in this cemetery. Despite his eloquent arguments against the removal of his people, the Choctaw were removed from their homeland. It is possible that his spirit remains here causing trouble at the graves of those who spurned his people after his death.
Hauck, Dennis William. Haunted Places: The National Directory. NYC: Penguin, 2002.
John Philip Sousa. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 20 December 2010.
Mathew Brady. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 20 December 2010.
Ogden, Tom. Haunted Washington, DC: Federal Phantoms, Government Ghosts, and Beltway Banshee. Guilford, CT: Globe Pequot, 2016.
Pushmataha. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 2 September 2020.
Taylor, Troy. Beyond the Grave: The History of America’s Most Haunted Graveyards. Alton, IL: Whitechapel Press, 2001.
Decatur House 1610 H Street, NW
Decatur House, 2009. Photo by Tim1965, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Overlooking Lafayette Park and situated just down the street from the White House stands the Decatur House which is open as the National Center for White House History, a joint effort of the National Trust for Historic Preservation and the White House Historical Association. Built in 1818 by Commodore Stephen Decatur, a naval hero of the War of 1812, the house was designed by Benjamin Henry Latrobe, America’s first professional architect and the designer of the U.S. Capitol Building. Decatur lived in the house only a little more than a year before he was killed in a duel with Commodore James Barron. Decatur’s spirit has been seen standing at a window perhaps contemplating the duel that would end his life while his wife’s piteous spirit has been heard and felt throughout the house.
Sources
Hauck, Dennis William. Haunted Places: The National Directory. NYC: Penguin, 2002.
Decatur House. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 2 September 2020.
McCurry, Jason. “Decatur House” in Jeff Belanger’s Encyclopedia of Haunted Places. Franklin Lakes, NJ: New Page Books, 2005.
Independence Avenue In the vicinity of FAA Headquarters
FAA Headquarters on Independence Avenue, 2009. Photo by Matthew Bisanz, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Much of early Washington was built on the backs of African-American slaves. Two of the most notorious slave markets, the Williams Slave Pen and the Robey Slave Pen were ironically located along Independence Avenue near what is now the headquarters of the Federal Aviation Administration. Witnesses in the area report the clanking of chains and screams in this area.
Indonesian Embassy (Walsh-McLean Mansion) 2020 Massachusetts Avenue, NW
Indonesian Embassy (Walsh-McLean Mansion), 2008. Photo by Josh Carolina, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The Walsh-McLean Mansion is an architectural gem and currently the home to the Indonesian Embassy and several mysteries. The home was owned by the wealthy Edward Beale McLean, owner and publisher of The Washington Post. In 1911, he purchased the famed Hope Diamond, which he presented to his wife, socialite Evelyn Walsh McLean. The purchase went through despite the rumors of a curse attached to the stone.
For eight years the McLeans avoided any tragedy that could be blamed on the stone. As a series of misfortunes befell the family, the press labeled the diamond a “talisman of evil.” These tragedies included the death of the McLean’s son in an automobile accident, their eventual divorce, their daughter from an overdose of sleeping pills, Edward’s dive into insanity, and Evalyn’s demise from disease in 1947. It is Evalyn’s spirit that is supposedly seen descending the grand staircase of the house.
Sources
Edward Beale McLean. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 2 September 2020.
Ganschinietz, Suzanne. National Register of Historic Places Nomination form for Indonesian Embassy. Listed 18 January 1973.
Hauck, Dennis William. Haunted Places: The National Directory. NYC: Penguin, 2002.
Holzer, Hans. Where the Ghosts Are: The Ultimate Guide To Haunted Houses. Secaucus, NJ: Citadel Press, 1995.
Hope Diamond. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 22 December 2010.
National Building Museum (Old Pension Building) 440 G Street, NW
National Building Museum, 2010. Photo by AgnosticPreachersKid, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The faux-onyx Corinthian columns in the National Building Museum, 1918. Photo by National Photo Company, courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
Some of the first paranormal phenomena witnessed in the 1885 Old Pension Building were odd faces appearing on the simulated onyx Corinthian columns in the main court of the building. In 1917, on the eve of the death of “Buffalo” Bill Cody, a guard saw the veins in the onyx take on the shape of a Native American head and a buffalo. Other faces seen on the columns include George and Martha Washington and eventually got so bad the columns were painted over. Following the painting, the spirits took to the halls in the form of shadowy figures.
Sources
Hauck, Dennis William. Haunted Places: The National Directory. NYC: Penguin, 2002.
The Octagon House, 2009. Photo by AgnosticPreachersKid, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The Octagon House is described by the National Park Service as “a zenith in Federal architecture in the United States, through its brilliant plan which combines a circle, two rectangles, and a triangle, and through the elegance and restraint of the interior and exterior decoration.” Construction on this magnificent manse began in 1798 and was completed two years later. The house was home to Colonel John Tayloe, one of the wealthiest planters in Virginia and his spirit as well as the spirits of two of his daughters have been seen in the house. One daughter died after plunging over the stair’s railing. Among other spirits reported is that of Dolley Madison who spent time in house when it served temporarily as Executive Mansion after the White House was burned by the British.
Sources
Holzer, Hans. Where the Ghosts Are: The Ultimate Guide To Haunted Houses. Secaucus, NJ: Citadel Press, 1995.
National Park Service. “Octagon Hall.” Accessed 22 December 2010.
United States Capitol Building Capitol Hill
Among the more interesting legends of this most legendary city is that of Statuary Hall in the Capitol. The magnificent domed chamber originally served as the chamber for the House of Representatives in the first half of the nineteenth century. When the House of Representatives moved into a new chamber, legislation was put forth to use the room to celebrate prominent Americans with each state adding statues of two of its most prominent citizens. The collection of statues has grown to the point where only 38 are actually located in the hall with the remainder of the collection scattered throughout the Capitol. The legend associated with this room is that on the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, the statues all climb down from their pedestals and dance to celebrate another year of the Republic’s survival. According to Dennis William Hauck, the guard who swore he saw this happen was dismissed.
For information on a ghost from the Library of Congress’ original location within the Capitol that may continue to haunt the building see my article on the haunted libraries of D.C.
Sources
Hauck, Dennis William. Haunted Places: The National Directory. NYC: Penguin, 2002.
Woodrow Wilson House, 2008. Photo by AgnosticPreachersKid, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The shade of our 28th president, Woodrow Wilson apparently appears in two places: Blair House and his home in the northwestern part of the city. Also facing Lafayette Square near the Decatur, Cutts-Madison and White Houses, all of which are haunted, the Blair House is now the official state guest house. According to Michael Varhola, Wilson’s spirit has been seen rocking in a rocking chair in one of the bedrooms. His spirit is also seen in the home he occupied following his presidency and where he subsequently died in 1924. Wilson’s “slow shuffle” aided by a cane, which he used following a stroke in 1919, has been heard frequently in this house.
Sources
Blair House. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 22 December 2010.
Hauck, Dennis William. Haunted Places: The National Directory. NYC: Penguin, 2002.
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