Return to Gettysburg
I wanted to get this down before I started getting fuzzy on details.
So, remember the 13 year old girl ghost I talked about last year, who we encountered on the Mature Tour? Well.
We were lucky enough to get Cliff, the veteran storyteller who had taken us on the 11pm Mature Tour last year. Though we got to talk to Mike a little bit on Friday night, he was not on for the Saturday tour, and Cliff did the entire 90 minute walk himself. Now, the first 45 mins or so took place in the Farnsworth basement, and was a recollection of tales that had happened in the inn. The last 45 minutes were a walk out to the base of Cemetery Hill-- or as far as we could get, rather, before being on National Park grounds, which, at that time of night is very, very illegal.
Anyhow, to explain the path of the tour: the walk to the foot of Cemetery Hill from the Farnsworth Inn is a fairly short one. About three blocks. It goes through an open field which is now behind the high school football field, but at the time of the Civil War was very much part of the action. There's a long stretch of flat-ish land, then a copse of trees, along which a little wooded path that follows the treeline and leads to a Confederate mass grave. You can't venture much past the treeline, though, or you're on National Park property, which... again, is a no no. Here, have a visual.
The red line is the tour path.
The green line is the divider between the treeline and Park land.
So. As we entered the treeline, Cliff began to recount his tale of the 13 year old girl. For those who don't remember from last year, the story is this: one night in 2007, Cliff was giving a mature tour, which originally ended up by the mass grave. It was a warm night, but not particularly close to Halloween, so it wasn't a packed tour, but he had about a dozen or so people with him. As they were walking down the path, the entire group froze. There was what looked like a thirteen year old girl ahead of him. She had long brown hair, and was wearing a white chemise. Cliff raised his flashlight to her, and she turned around to face him, snarling, hissing, and with her arms raising in a clawlike gesture. Even his recreation of the movement scared the bejesus out of me last year, I swear. He said that the look on her face was one of pure malice. Evil. She looked like she wanted to kill him. People started RUNNING. Like most sane people would, I imagine.
Since then, she's seen infrequently on the mature tour, sometimes in the background while he's telling the tale. She projects this angry, restless energy. She does not like being talked about. I was on a tour last year where someone actually caught a picture of her, lurking in the background while he told the story. She was leaning against the exact tree where I felt a nasty emanation of energy.The story is no joke.
But in the last year, there have been developments to the story. Cliff had long been trying to find some sort of historical corroboration for the story, and in the winter of last year, he came across a civilian account of the battle that shed some light on this mysterious girl.
It is true that Jennie Wade was the only civilian killed during the battle of Gettysburg. However, a few others died of indirect reasons in the days to weeks after the fighting ended. A thirteen year old girl named Elizabeth was one such person. Elizabeth was born with a congenital heart defect. She had had heart problems her entire life. The citizens of Gettysburg knew a few weeks ahead of time that there was some possibility of fighting in their area because of the Confederates that were gathering in the area, searching for supplies. Elizabeth's parents moved her and her brother to a small farm two miles south of town to stay with relatives, figuring that it would be safer for them. Unfortunately, like many other Gettysburg residents who did the same exact thing, that put them in the direct path of the battle, which was fought largely in the farmlands to the south of the town. Ten days after the battle, Elizabeth died of heart failure. She knew her time was coming and had confided to her brother how angry she was at her parents, because she felt her death was their fault.
Cliff believes that Elizabeth may be the figure he sees on the tour, and with good reason. Ever since he began using the name in the story, she has really upped the ante. She is seen more frequently. Dead animals hanging from trees are found in the place above where Cliff usually tells the tale. One woman, believing she was actually possessed by the spirit of Elizabeth, physically attacked him in August. He is contractually bound to tell the story through the end of this season, and then he says he's retiring it. Regardless of what's behind the seriousness of recent events, the clear message is "STOP."
Anyhow, as he's recounting the recent events, there are obnoxiously loud dickhead ghost hunting people up ahead, closer to the mass grave, taking pictures. As he's talking, both Jason and I notice that about twenty five feet ahead, the flashes from the cameras are bouncing off a particular spot behind Cliff in a very fucked up sort of way. There is a whitish blur there, about the size of a small person, illuminated by the flashes. I didn't want to be the attention whore who caused panic, so I kept it to myself, knowing that Cliff would give everybody a few minutes to explore the wood and take pictures, and I'd tell him privately then. But trust me, I had a death grip on Jason's hand. The energy in that place was No Good, and I would not be exploring, thankyouverymuch. This was a being who was so ANGRY they no longer knew how to be human, like a spectral feral child. Its anger had morphed it into something else. Something potentially dangerous.
The group dispersed to search the wood, and so Jason and I explained to Cliff that she was with us again. Our story was backed by another woman in the group who saw her back there, too. Then we hear a blood curdling scream. At first, I thought, "great, an actress." But the second scream I heard was much, much more convincing. It's the kind of sobbing scream you hear when someone has just found out a loved one has died. It was guttural. Wrenching. It ripped through the pitch-dark trees like a knife.
Cliff went to figure out what the commotion was, then quickly led us out of the treeline to explain. A woman on our tour saw her, up close. Another woman on our tour produced a small handheld recorder, with which she had been attempting to capture EVP. She played it back for us.
The answer is very clearly yes.
A few of us hang around after the tour disperses. The woman told us the tale of how she saw Elizabeth, and the malice and fear that she emanated terrified her. She was in tears. After she left, I told Cliff that discontinuing the story is really in his best interest. He agreed, then told us of an incident earlier in the summer. After one tour, he found a note taped to his cape: "I'm going to help her get you." Fucked. Up. Telling this story is clearly becoming a physical safety issue. Anyhow, he said that whether the woman really saw Elizabeth or not, the woman clearly believes she did, and he believes her. So. That was our second, and hopefully last, encounter with Elizabeth.
Other things about our stay:
-- Our room was ridonkulous. We stayed in the Farnsworth House's Belle Boyd room, which was decorated with many, many fat little cherubs playing harps and vulvuzelas. The bed was very comfy. The bathroom was HUUUUUUGE. Though the jacuzzi was nice, but the really ugly dolphin mural really took away from the Roman bath plus Pre-Raphaelite ambiance. It was such a weird mishmash of decorative styles. But preferable to your cookiecutter hotel room, I guess! Except for the creepy stuffed cat that was so lifelike that we actually had to ask if it was taxidermied. (It wasn't, thank God.)
-- The food continues to be great. Their hot turkey and mashed potatoes platter in the tavern is my faaaaavorite. So simple, but so perfect. Also awesome: the bread pudding with real whipped cream and the walnut apple cake. NOM.
-- I had a strange occurrence in the tavern last night. My anxiety was spiking due to a worrysome phone call from our vet, and I was feeling really anxious. We were seated near the door, so it was drafty, and my anemic ass was really cold. When J asked what was the matter, I told him that I was feeling crappy. And then I felt really warm on either side of my face, as though someone had their hands on my cheeks. The warm sensation then touched my hand and spread up my arm. No fireplace nearby, no heaters. So it was weird. But not worrysome.
-- The Hospital Tour was good. Our guide, Allie, was very animated and witty. Nothing creepy happened on that one except that the Farnsworth's attic door kept swinging open, but that's happened every time we've visited. I think it's less likely ghosts and more likely a crappy door.
-- Mourning Theater was skippable. Our storyteller was laying it on so thick I swear to God he was gonna burst into Glenn Beck-ian tears. He kept alternating between more contemporary storytelling styles and the overdramatic one and it just didn't work. I'd maybe do it again with another storyteller.
-- The first half of the Mature Tour, as I mentioned, was spent in the basement, telling stories. Cliff was telling the story of one of their ghosts, a Confederate soldier (the house was occupied by rebel sharpshooters during the battle), who really, really doesn't like female guests and has actually attacked two who went as far as provoking him. For that reason, they never give out his name anymore. As he's telling the story, I hear, whispered in my ear from the empty seat next to me: "Abraham." So I asked Cliff who Abraham is, well after we were out of the cellar. Thankfully he's not the violent one. He is, however, another of the Confederates who is much less active in the house. His body was found in the cellar, not too far behind where I was sitting. They don't give out his name, either, mostly because he's so rarely around that people never ask. There are no particular stories associated with him. Well, he certainly said something to me.
-- We toured the Shriver House, which is a museum dedicated to the civilian experience in Gettysburg. So cool to see a period-correct house! We also did an auto-tour of the battlefields. Fascinating.
-- Apple Harvest Festival! Pumpkin funnel cake. Apple cider. BBQ. Yummy things.
So that was this year's trip to Gettysburg. We'll definitely go back. Maybe stay in another room. But a good time was had!
So, remember the 13 year old girl ghost I talked about last year, who we encountered on the Mature Tour? Well.
We were lucky enough to get Cliff, the veteran storyteller who had taken us on the 11pm Mature Tour last year. Though we got to talk to Mike a little bit on Friday night, he was not on for the Saturday tour, and Cliff did the entire 90 minute walk himself. Now, the first 45 mins or so took place in the Farnsworth basement, and was a recollection of tales that had happened in the inn. The last 45 minutes were a walk out to the base of Cemetery Hill-- or as far as we could get, rather, before being on National Park grounds, which, at that time of night is very, very illegal.
Anyhow, to explain the path of the tour: the walk to the foot of Cemetery Hill from the Farnsworth Inn is a fairly short one. About three blocks. It goes through an open field which is now behind the high school football field, but at the time of the Civil War was very much part of the action. There's a long stretch of flat-ish land, then a copse of trees, along which a little wooded path that follows the treeline and leads to a Confederate mass grave. You can't venture much past the treeline, though, or you're on National Park property, which... again, is a no no. Here, have a visual.
The red line is the tour path.
The green line is the divider between the treeline and Park land.
So. As we entered the treeline, Cliff began to recount his tale of the 13 year old girl. For those who don't remember from last year, the story is this: one night in 2007, Cliff was giving a mature tour, which originally ended up by the mass grave. It was a warm night, but not particularly close to Halloween, so it wasn't a packed tour, but he had about a dozen or so people with him. As they were walking down the path, the entire group froze. There was what looked like a thirteen year old girl ahead of him. She had long brown hair, and was wearing a white chemise. Cliff raised his flashlight to her, and she turned around to face him, snarling, hissing, and with her arms raising in a clawlike gesture. Even his recreation of the movement scared the bejesus out of me last year, I swear. He said that the look on her face was one of pure malice. Evil. She looked like she wanted to kill him. People started RUNNING. Like most sane people would, I imagine.
Since then, she's seen infrequently on the mature tour, sometimes in the background while he's telling the tale. She projects this angry, restless energy. She does not like being talked about. I was on a tour last year where someone actually caught a picture of her, lurking in the background while he told the story. She was leaning against the exact tree where I felt a nasty emanation of energy.The story is no joke.
But in the last year, there have been developments to the story. Cliff had long been trying to find some sort of historical corroboration for the story, and in the winter of last year, he came across a civilian account of the battle that shed some light on this mysterious girl.
It is true that Jennie Wade was the only civilian killed during the battle of Gettysburg. However, a few others died of indirect reasons in the days to weeks after the fighting ended. A thirteen year old girl named Elizabeth was one such person. Elizabeth was born with a congenital heart defect. She had had heart problems her entire life. The citizens of Gettysburg knew a few weeks ahead of time that there was some possibility of fighting in their area because of the Confederates that were gathering in the area, searching for supplies. Elizabeth's parents moved her and her brother to a small farm two miles south of town to stay with relatives, figuring that it would be safer for them. Unfortunately, like many other Gettysburg residents who did the same exact thing, that put them in the direct path of the battle, which was fought largely in the farmlands to the south of the town. Ten days after the battle, Elizabeth died of heart failure. She knew her time was coming and had confided to her brother how angry she was at her parents, because she felt her death was their fault.
Cliff believes that Elizabeth may be the figure he sees on the tour, and with good reason. Ever since he began using the name in the story, she has really upped the ante. She is seen more frequently. Dead animals hanging from trees are found in the place above where Cliff usually tells the tale. One woman, believing she was actually possessed by the spirit of Elizabeth, physically attacked him in August. He is contractually bound to tell the story through the end of this season, and then he says he's retiring it. Regardless of what's behind the seriousness of recent events, the clear message is "STOP."
Anyhow, as he's recounting the recent events, there are obnoxiously loud dickhead ghost hunting people up ahead, closer to the mass grave, taking pictures. As he's talking, both Jason and I notice that about twenty five feet ahead, the flashes from the cameras are bouncing off a particular spot behind Cliff in a very fucked up sort of way. There is a whitish blur there, about the size of a small person, illuminated by the flashes. I didn't want to be the attention whore who caused panic, so I kept it to myself, knowing that Cliff would give everybody a few minutes to explore the wood and take pictures, and I'd tell him privately then. But trust me, I had a death grip on Jason's hand. The energy in that place was No Good, and I would not be exploring, thankyouverymuch. This was a being who was so ANGRY they no longer knew how to be human, like a spectral feral child. Its anger had morphed it into something else. Something potentially dangerous.
The group dispersed to search the wood, and so Jason and I explained to Cliff that she was with us again. Our story was backed by another woman in the group who saw her back there, too. Then we hear a blood curdling scream. At first, I thought, "great, an actress." But the second scream I heard was much, much more convincing. It's the kind of sobbing scream you hear when someone has just found out a loved one has died. It was guttural. Wrenching. It ripped through the pitch-dark trees like a knife.
Cliff went to figure out what the commotion was, then quickly led us out of the treeline to explain. A woman on our tour saw her, up close. Another woman on our tour produced a small handheld recorder, with which she had been attempting to capture EVP. She played it back for us.
"Is Elizabeth here? Do you want to tell us anything?"
About two seconds pass.
Then comes the blood curdling scream.
The answer is very clearly yes.
A few of us hang around after the tour disperses. The woman told us the tale of how she saw Elizabeth, and the malice and fear that she emanated terrified her. She was in tears. After she left, I told Cliff that discontinuing the story is really in his best interest. He agreed, then told us of an incident earlier in the summer. After one tour, he found a note taped to his cape: "I'm going to help her get you." Fucked. Up. Telling this story is clearly becoming a physical safety issue. Anyhow, he said that whether the woman really saw Elizabeth or not, the woman clearly believes she did, and he believes her. So. That was our second, and hopefully last, encounter with Elizabeth.
Other things about our stay:
-- Our room was ridonkulous. We stayed in the Farnsworth House's Belle Boyd room, which was decorated with many, many fat little cherubs playing harps and vulvuzelas. The bed was very comfy. The bathroom was HUUUUUUGE. Though the jacuzzi was nice, but the really ugly dolphin mural really took away from the Roman bath plus Pre-Raphaelite ambiance. It was such a weird mishmash of decorative styles. But preferable to your cookiecutter hotel room, I guess! Except for the creepy stuffed cat that was so lifelike that we actually had to ask if it was taxidermied. (It wasn't, thank God.)
-- The food continues to be great. Their hot turkey and mashed potatoes platter in the tavern is my faaaaavorite. So simple, but so perfect. Also awesome: the bread pudding with real whipped cream and the walnut apple cake. NOM.
-- I had a strange occurrence in the tavern last night. My anxiety was spiking due to a worrysome phone call from our vet, and I was feeling really anxious. We were seated near the door, so it was drafty, and my anemic ass was really cold. When J asked what was the matter, I told him that I was feeling crappy. And then I felt really warm on either side of my face, as though someone had their hands on my cheeks. The warm sensation then touched my hand and spread up my arm. No fireplace nearby, no heaters. So it was weird. But not worrysome.
-- The Hospital Tour was good. Our guide, Allie, was very animated and witty. Nothing creepy happened on that one except that the Farnsworth's attic door kept swinging open, but that's happened every time we've visited. I think it's less likely ghosts and more likely a crappy door.
-- Mourning Theater was skippable. Our storyteller was laying it on so thick I swear to God he was gonna burst into Glenn Beck-ian tears. He kept alternating between more contemporary storytelling styles and the overdramatic one and it just didn't work. I'd maybe do it again with another storyteller.
-- The first half of the Mature Tour, as I mentioned, was spent in the basement, telling stories. Cliff was telling the story of one of their ghosts, a Confederate soldier (the house was occupied by rebel sharpshooters during the battle), who really, really doesn't like female guests and has actually attacked two who went as far as provoking him. For that reason, they never give out his name anymore. As he's telling the story, I hear, whispered in my ear from the empty seat next to me: "Abraham." So I asked Cliff who Abraham is, well after we were out of the cellar. Thankfully he's not the violent one. He is, however, another of the Confederates who is much less active in the house. His body was found in the cellar, not too far behind where I was sitting. They don't give out his name, either, mostly because he's so rarely around that people never ask. There are no particular stories associated with him. Well, he certainly said something to me.
-- We toured the Shriver House, which is a museum dedicated to the civilian experience in Gettysburg. So cool to see a period-correct house! We also did an auto-tour of the battlefields. Fascinating.
-- Apple Harvest Festival! Pumpkin funnel cake. Apple cider. BBQ. Yummy things.
So that was this year's trip to Gettysburg. We'll definitely go back. Maybe stay in another room. But a good time was had!