Articles on Ghosts from the CO Springs Gazette

HAUNTED HOTELS/ In certain places, vacationers may find themselves sharing a room with a ghost Gazette Telegraph news services. Colorado Springs Gazette - Telegraph. Colorado Springs, Colo.: Oct 29, 1995. pg. D.16 Abstract (Article Summary)
Guests at Georgia's Jekyll Island Club Hotel have been startled to find their coffee "sipped on" and the morning paper refolded. Colorado and New Mexico claim their share of resident spirits Linda DuVal, Travel Editor. Colorado Springs Gazette - Telegraph. Colorado Springs, Colo.: Oct 29, 1995. pg. D.16 Abstract (Article Summary) In Cripple Creek, the Palace Hotel supposedly has experienced ghostly visits off and on since the 1980s. One of the owners, Bob Lays, says he suspects it is the ghost of Kitty Chambers. Her husband, Dr. W.H. Chambers, owned the Palace from 1908 to 1928. Kitty died in 1918 under unknown circumstances. "She's known as the candlelighting ghost.

Famous Ghosts of Colonial Virginia Evelyn Bird Legend of 'Lady in White' and Phantom Coach of Carter's Hall Intrigue By Priscilla Williams
Many Virginians are familiar with the lovely old estate, Westover, the ancestral home of the Byrds, which overlooks the James River about 35 miles below Richmond, but not every one knows the ghost legend of the old mansion. Westover was built in 1726 by Colonel William Byrd 2d. He had been educated in England, and he was so accomplished and so handsome that he became known as the Black Swan. The ghost legend, however, is of his lovely daughter, Evelyn, who had not only inherited her father's gracious bearing but was a great beauty as well. She was presented at the Court of George I when she was 18, and it is said that she was the toast of the English nobility. This is easily understood after seeing the lovely portrait of her painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller. It was the statesman, Lord Chatham, who said on meeting her that "he no longer wondered why young gentlemen were so fond of going to Virginia to study ornithology since such beautiful Byrds were there." It was while she was in London that she met and fell in love with Charles Mordaunt, the grandson of the Earl of Peterborough, but he was a Roman Catholic and the colonel was a staunch Protestant, and so, so the story goes, the lovely Evelyn was hurried back to Virginia, to her home on the James. She had many suitors in Virginia, but Evelyn remained true to her love in London, and 10 years later she died of a broken heart. A few weeks before she died, evidently realizing that she would not live very much longer, she promised her friend, Anne Harrison, as they were walking in the garden together that she would return. And she has kept her promise. The following spring as Mrs. Harrison, who lived on the adjoining plantation, Berkley, was again walking in the garden, she "saw her friend dressed in white, dazzling in ethereal loveliness, standing beside her own grave. She drifted forward a few steps, kissed her hand to the beholder, smiling happily and vanished." * * * Other people have seen the ghost of the lovely Evelyn from time to time, usually walking in the garden. On one occasion, a guest at Westover awoke in the middle of the night to find a woman in white standing at the foot of her bed. Another time, when there were guests in the house, one of them awoke in the night and went to the window. While standing there looking out into the night she saw the ghost of Evelyn Byrd walking in the garden. The apparition, however, did not wish her to remain at the window, and it raised its head and arm and beckoned to her to go back into the room. She obeyed the command for the gesture was imperative, but she felt no fear, for it seems the lovely Evelyn is a gentle ghost and never startles nor frightens her beholders. At Carter's Hall, the first master of the old mansion returns in his coach with the coachman and footman sitting high on the box. Carter's Hall was built soon after the Revolution by Colonel Nathaniel Burwell, who moved to Clarke County from the magnificent estate, Carter's Grove, just below Williamsburg, and on the site commanding a beautiful view of the Blue Ridge Mountains built his new home. Colonel Burwell was married twice. His first wife was Susanna Grymes to whom he was devoted, and indeed so great was his grief when she died that he felt he could not bear his bereavement alone. Looking about him for a suitable companion with whom to share his loss, a happy inspiration came to him, and a few months after her death, he mounted his great coach and went down to Rosewell, the home of Colonel John Page, where he asked his friend to send for his half-sister, Mrs. George Baylor, that he might marry her. The widow was young and beautiful, and as Marguerite de Pont Lee suggests, 'possibly this fact occurred to the master of Carter's Hall even in the hour of his deepest bereavement." The widow came, but she rejected him. Her rejection, however, meant little to the colonel. "Lucy," he said, "you do not know what is good for you. Your brother John and I arranged it all before you came," and apparently that settled it for they were married. After the ceremony, the bridegroom told his bride, "Now, Lucy, you can weep for your dear George, and I can weep for my beloved Sucky." And now, according to tradition, the old colonel comes back in his lumbering coach. It is not known whether it is with his beloved Sucky or the fair Lucy that he returns, but the present owners of Carter's Hall say that on several occasions they have heard a vehicle arrive at the door and have later discovered that nothing was really there. Once when guests were at Carter's Hall, and they were all sitting around an open fire in the dining room, they heard the sound of a carriage being driven to the door. Not expecting anyone and wondering who it could be, all of them went to the door. Not expecting any one and wondering the house an old-fashioned coach with two large horses and a coachman and footman sitting in the box. [sic] They could see some one sitting in the coach. The footman jumped down, opened the door and let the steps down, but no one descended. He then put the steps up, closed the door and jumped to his seat beside the coachman. As the old coach disappeared into the night, the crack of the whip was distinctly heard. Another lovely old mansion with an interesting ghost legend is Castle Hill in Albemarle County. It was built in 1765 by Dr. Thomas Walker, a prominent physician of that day. The small panes of glass and the brass door locks which were brought over from London are still in use in the older part of the house. There is an interesting bit of correspondence between Dr. Walker and Colonel Bernard Moore which was written when Dr. Walker's son wished to "pay his addresses" to Colonel Moore's daughter, Elizabeth. There are really two ghost legends of Castle Hill. One is that some ancestress, reflecting perhaps the lavish hospitality of former days when Jefferson and Madison were entertained there, floods the atmosphere with a "marvelous psychic perfume of roses" when the present mistress, the Princess Troubetzkoy, entertains. At other times, people have heard footsteps, noises of furniture being moved in the night and even voices. The other legend is that in one room the ghost of one of the Princess' great grandmothers appears to people she does not consider in touch with the atmosphere at Castle Hill and demands that they go away. On one occasion, a young man was awakened in the night by a charming young woman who stood and gazed at him saying over and over again, "You must please go. You must go away. You must not stay here." The young man had planned to stay several days, but the next day he appeared pale and agitated and said he must leave that day. He later declared that he would never again sleep in that room. * * * And still another mansion, with not only one ghost but many ghosts who dance and revel in the night, is White Marsh in Gloucester County. During the Colonial period it was owned by the Whiting family, but after the Revolution it became the property of Thomas Reade Rootes. He left it to his second wife who left it to her daughter by her first marriage, Evelina Matilda Prosser. She married Philip Tabb of Toddsbury and they made their home at White Marsh. Later, as long as the Tabb family lived there, her ghost, dressed in an old-fashioned costume of black moire with a white fichu about her neck and a leather key basket, such as the mistress of a plantation carried, on her arm, was a familiar figure in the old mansion, where she was frequently seen by members of the family. But more interesting is the ghost dancing at White Marsh. After the death of his parents, Mr. Philip Tabb who lived in Baltimore, placed White Marsh in the care of Mr. James Sinclair and came down only during the hunting season. One night when Mr. Sinclair was returning to the house, he found the entire house lighted. He immediately thought that Mr. Tabb had come down and began to wonder how he would manage. He carried his horse on to the stable, however, but when he returned all the lights were out. Still thinking Mr. Tabb was there and expecting to find his things in the hall, he went in only to find that nobody was there. The next year, Mr. Franklin Dabney had charge of the place. One night when he returned late, he not only found every window ablaze with light, but he heard music and the sound of dancing. He tied his horse and ran up the steps to join in the fun, but as he opened the door the lights went out and the music ceased!
URL: http://www.thenandnow.bravepages.com
Email: A. C. Griffith

Territorial Enterprise, January 1, 1863
MORE GHOSTS
By Mark Twain
Are we to be scared to death every time we venture into the street? May we be allowed to go quietly about our business, or are we to be assailed at every corner by fearful apparitions? As we were plodding home at the ghostly hour last night, thinking about the haunted house humbug, we were suddenly riveted to the pavement in a paroxysm of terror by that blue and yellow phantom who watches over the destinies of the shooting gallery, this side of the International. Seen in daylight, placidly reclining against his board in the doorway, with his blue coat, and his yellow pants, and his high boots, and his fancy hat, just lifted from his head, he is rather an engaging youth, than otherwise; but at dead of night, when he pops out his pallid face at you by candle light, and stares vacantly upon you with his uplifted hat and the eternal civility of his changeless brow, and the ghostliness of his general appearance heightened by that grave-stone inscription over his stomach, "to-day shooting for chickens here," you are apt to think of spectres starting up from behind tomb-stones, and you weaken accordingly - the cold chills creep over you - your hair stands on end - you reverse your front, and with all possible alacrity, you change your base.
http://www.twainquotes.com/18630101t.html

Phantom lord who terrorised village
12th July 1984
Ampthill and Flitwick Times
by Matthew Edgeworth
SIR Rowland Alston was notoriously wicked in his lifetime - and just as bad when he was dead. The ghost of this depraved baron used to walk through walls and tree trunks in broad daylight and ride a phantom black charger into the hall of his ancestral home, Odell Castle, where hoof marks could be seen on the flags of the floor.
He terrorised the neighbourhood so much that one night 12 clergymen with bells, books and candles ambushed him and practiced an exorcism ceremony that consigned his spirit to a pond on Odell Wold. Here he remained for more than 100 years and although passers-by sometimes heard his snoring, his mischievous hauntings ceased for the time being.
Eventually he tired of his watery bed and managed to crawl out on dry land, only to find the Devil waiting for him. He was chased all round the countryside but managed to reach the village church just before the Devil pounced.
He floated in through the keyhole as Satan shook the church in rage, leaving five giant fingermarks on the stone jamb of the porch. Nowadays Sir Rowland contents himself by riding a charit and pair around his former estates once every 100 years. His next appearance will be in 2044.
Another evil character who continued to be feared after his death was the highwayman Black Tom, so called because of his swarthy complexion and coal-black hair. He was buried with a stake driven through his heart at the junction of Tavistock Street, Union Street and Clapham Road, a spot still known by some as `Black Tom's Grave'.
But this did not prevent his ghost haunting the locality in company with another unidentified phantom. In the 1840s, after several apparitions had been seen, people stayed indoors at night for fear of meeting the dreadful pair.
The last sighting of Black Tom was 20 years ago, in broad daylight, when a number of witnesses saw a man with a blackened face staggering along Union Street, his head lolling about in the most ghastly fashion, as if he had been hanged. As they watched in fascinated horror the shape faded and vanished into thin air.
On sunny days the spirit of a sweet happy girl with golden hair is said to grace the Swiss Garden in Old Warden. She was once the mistress of the eccentric Baron Ongley who laid out the eight-acre gardens in the 1820s, and she lived in the summerhouse which still stands today.
A stone cross marks the grave of their son, who died when he was only nine years old. A strange haunting began when gardeners moved the cross to another part of the grounds. Shadowy figures, deep in conversation, were seen to wander through the trees, but if anyone followed them they quickly disappeared. Their faint whisperings could just be heard above the rustling of the leaves, though no-one could quite make out what they were saying.
These elusive ghosts have not been seen or heard since the cross was put back in its rightful place.
http://www.galaxy.bedfordshire.gov.uk/webingres/bedfordshire/vlib/0.digitised_resources/bedford_news_black_tom.htm