Haunted Gettysburg!
Every year, my husband and I take trips to Gettysburg for the Ghost Tours. This year, we actually stayed at the Farnsworth House Inn, which is purported to be one of the most haunted houses in the US. It was occupied by Confederate sharpshooters during the battle, a few of whom were killed in the attic, then stored in the cellar. The first floor was used as a field hospital. The staff has reported somewhere around 14 distinct spirits. We were not disappointed. We had a super freaky experience on the Farnsworth's 11pm "Mature Tour" last night.
Long story short: there is a thirteen year old entity who lurks at the base of Cemetery Hill. We have encountered her two years in a row. She made one woman on our tour last night completely lose it.
This year, were lucky enough to have Cliff as our tour guide. Cliff is one of the two veteran storytellers who had taken us on the 11pm Mature Tour last year-- wherein we had first encountered this spirit. The first 45 mins or so took place in the Farnsworth's cellar, 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, anyhow, 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. It 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. On our tour last year, someone in our group 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 my husband 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 messed 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 my husband's hand. The energy in that place was No Good, and I would not be exploring, thankyouverymuch. It felt like a being who was so ANGRY they no longer knew how to be human, like a feral child of sorts. Her anger had morphed her into something else.
The group dispersed to search the wood, and so my husband 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," because of how dramatic the scream was. 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.
We had a few other strange experiences during our stay-- during one storytelling session, a name was spoken to me very clearly from the empty seat next to me. When I asked the storyteller who "Abraham" was, I was told that he was a Confederate who had been found dead in the cellar, not too far behind where I was sitting. However, as he is not a very active spirit in the house (where several of their other spirits are very active), he's rarely ever spoken of and almost never named. That was cool.
Anyhow-- I love Gettysburg and its energy. So much got imprinted there by the heaviness of what happened there-- both on the battlefield and in the civilian experience.
Has anyone else had a Haunted Gettysburg story they'd like to share?
Long story short: there is a thirteen year old entity who lurks at the base of Cemetery Hill. We have encountered her two years in a row. She made one woman on our tour last night completely lose it.
This year, were lucky enough to have Cliff as our tour guide. Cliff is one of the two veteran storytellers who had taken us on the 11pm Mature Tour last year-- wherein we had first encountered this spirit. The first 45 mins or so took place in the Farnsworth's cellar, 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, anyhow, 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. It 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. On our tour last year, someone in our group 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 my husband 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 messed 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 my husband's hand. The energy in that place was No Good, and I would not be exploring, thankyouverymuch. It felt like a being who was so ANGRY they no longer knew how to be human, like a feral child of sorts. Her anger had morphed her into something else.
The group dispersed to search the wood, and so my husband 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," because of how dramatic the scream was. 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.
We had a few other strange experiences during our stay-- during one storytelling session, a name was spoken to me very clearly from the empty seat next to me. When I asked the storyteller who "Abraham" was, I was told that he was a Confederate who had been found dead in the cellar, not too far behind where I was sitting. However, as he is not a very active spirit in the house (where several of their other spirits are very active), he's rarely ever spoken of and almost never named. That was cool.
Anyhow-- I love Gettysburg and its energy. So much got imprinted there by the heaviness of what happened there-- both on the battlefield and in the civilian experience.
Has anyone else had a Haunted Gettysburg story they'd like to share?