Caves and Goats at Harpers Ferry

This small cave is located in the hillside above Potomac Street and below High Street in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia-- a beautiful, sleepy old town at the junction of the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers. Centuries of peace and quiet have enveloped the town, with the exception of the years before and during the Civil War, when it was the scene of John Brown's attempted takeover of the U.S. Armory and the object of constant contention between the Federal and Confederate Armies.

The photo above is a reminder of two of Harpers Ferry's more eccentric residents. The cave, I am told, is Dr. Brown's Cave, or at least that is the name by which it is currently known. There are stories of a cave located in or near town, yet the identity of which "Brown" used the cave, or if either of the "Browns" actually used this particular cave, remain unclear. "It is said" that there's a cave at Harpers Ferry that John Brown used. Local lore recorded in the papers of Grant Conway tell of a cave near the B&O Railroad tracks where slaves met and plotted to assist John Brown in his insurrection. This cave was said to have had a passage which ended at the basement of the Harper House. A Union soldier named Edward Schilling wrote a letter to his family in March of 1863 where he described a cave found by him and a group of friends while they were foraging for boards. He described long passages and large caverns, some containing water, as well as signs that someone had used the cave before them.

There was an earlier Brown, however, who may have used this cave first and given it its name. In the first decade of the nineteenth century, a former surgeon in the American Revolutionary Army, a native of Scotland, took up residence in Harpers Ferry. This Dr. Brown was a bachelor and was well enough off that he could afford to be eccentric and risk the disapproval of local society. One of the manifestations of his uniqueness was his great love of dogs and cats. It is said that in his strolls through this tiny town, Dr. Brown was sometimes accompanied by as many as 50 dogs. He used, as his storehouse and pharmacy, "a cave, partly natural and partly artificial." Dr. Brown's residence was on the south side of High Street, just above the cave in the photo above. When I looked into this cave, it appeared to be just a small chamber. Could there have been a passage in a corner that I overlooked, which may have led to more openings and passageways beneath the town? Maybe the natural portions of the cave have been closed off....or maybe they just remain hidden from the casual visitor. Then again, maybe this little chamber is just a conveniently visible feature useful for ghost tours and historical interpretations, something accessible that can be attached to the colorful legends of this town.

The most interesting thing about the cave I found to be the painting of a goat on the rear wall, facing the entrance. This made more sense, however, when I later came upon the story of a man who, shortly after the Civil War, lived across the Potomac River from Harpers Ferry and kept a herd of goats. Some of these goats got into the habit of climbing the steep cliffs of Maryland Heights, and became more and more wild as the years went on. In 1890, the herd was thought to number about a hundred, and goats could clearly be seen on most days by people on the train platform at Harpers Ferry, scrambling among the rocks in the inaccessible areas of the Heights above the river. The rocky hillside on which the feral goats loved to roam faced the opening of my goat cave, on the opposite side of the Potomac River. The goats remained and in 1980, there were still 28 wild goats roaming the cliffs. At one point following this, residents began to notice the absence of the once familiar goats, and still no one knows what happened to them. Harpers Ferry Park historian Kevin Frye has a theory, though....He believes that one cold winter night, the goats took shelter in the railroad tunnel and were killed by a freight train.

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View of Maryland Heights and the railroad tunnel from the hillside near the Catholic Church in Harpers Ferry

The Red Path - Part One

The following is one of the strangest stories of "the creepy" that I have ever heard. Although the geographical area of the events has been inhabited by humans for 3000 years, the accounts of this 'creature' that I've been able to find only date back to the early 1970s.

The border between Wales and England is traditionally an area that has been full of contrasts and conflict. It is not surprising, to me anyway, that it is also very rich in folklore and tales of the weird.

Here is the account of 'The Beast of Brymbo' as related by Richard Holland, the editor of the website Uncanny UK:

"Twenty years ago a friend, Wendi Clough, told me a very strange story. The child of a young mum she knew had come home in tears one afternoon after being frightened by what he described as ‘a cow standing up like a person with smoke coming out of its nose’. He and his little friend had both seen this fiendish shape and had run home in terror.

Childish imagination? A trick played on two small children? Something like that, I thought - but the eerie image of this ‘cow’ on its hind legs stayed in my memory. There was something so medieval about it, so devilish. Unfortunately, Wendi had lost touch with the informant and because she had heard the story a year or two previously, she couldn’t remember where exactly it was supposed to have taken place. All she could tell me was that it was ‘somewhere near Wrexham [in North-East Wales] and that it was on a path that goes up a hill in the middle of the village and acts as a short cut’.

Come forward two decades and I happen to mention this odd anecdote to another friend, Jonathan Edwards, who now lives in Gresford between Wrexham and Chester. ‘That sounds like Brymbo,’ he told me. ‘The village is split into two levels, with a big sandstone outcrop dividing them. There’s a path called the Red Path which goes up it.’

Jonathan was brought up in Brymbo and knows the village well, but had never heard of it being haunted by such a spectre. His mother, however, had heard something about it. When Jonathan mentioned it to her, she recalled that two women she knew had spoken of encountering something very similar.

And this is how I met Mrs J and Mrs S (both names on record). Their brush with what I can’t help but call The Beast of Brymbo took place one bright, moonlit night in December, 1985. They were both happy to admit that they had had a few drinks before the sighting, since they had been walking home after a jolly night out at the Miner’s Arms. However, there was no doubting their conviction; indeed, Mrs S became suddenly a bit tearful when she remembered how frightened she had been. Genuine encounters with the Very Strange can have that effect, as I know myself. Ms J told the story, with occasional corrections or added details from Mrs S. This is a précis:

‘We were walking up the Red Path at about midnight. When we got near the top, we paused for a breather, leaning on the railings. Just there, to the left, there is another set of very steep steps which you can take as a short cut. But they’re very overgrown and can be slippery, so I wasn’t being serious when I suggested we take them. But because I did so, [Mrs S] looked up in that direction. [Mrs S] said: “What’s that looking at us?”

‘I looked up and there it was, standing on the bank. It was cow-like, standing on its hind legs and at least 6ft tall. It was a light brown colour and smooth haired. There were two little bumps where you might expect horns. We could see it clearly because it was illuminated by the moon and the streetlights. It just stood there, frowning down at us with its eyes wrinkled up. Its hooves were sort of dangling down in front of it. We ran up the Red Path but then realised it could easily cut us off at the top. When we got there, though, it had vanished.’

Mrs S continued: ‘I realised I had dropped my scarf on the path, so I had to go back for it. I was so frightened. The thing didn’t appear again but I didn’t dare use that path for a whole month.’

That was the end of their adventure. There’s no doubt in my mind that the two children referred to above saw the same thing, possibly in the same year (although admittedly there was no ‘smoke’ emerging from nostrils on this occasion). Mrs J and Mrs S are convinced it wasn’t somebody in a costume: ‘It was too realistic. The proportions were all wrong and the legs were too thin.’

It may have been some sort of dummy but someone must have been waiting in the bushes on that cold night to have removed it so quickly. On the same evening that I met Mrs J and Mrs S, however, I also met a Mr J (no relation), who had another strange experience in Brymbo more than a decade earlier. His sighting bears similarities to The Beast of Brymbo and I shall recount it in my next article.

[SOURCE: Personal communication with the author, 1988 and 2004]"
copyright 2008 Richard Holland

*click below for*
A Walk Around Brymbo - with links to photos of the town and its surroundings!

~to be continued~

The ride home

Before we know it, the mustard will be blooming again and the car windows will be down on the ride home from work. There are a lot of cows out this way. When my oldest daughter was little, we didn't know the names of the different breeds....still don't. She called these the "peanut butter cows."

I think this is a wheat field. After living over here for 16 years, you would think I'd be better versed in cow breeds and crop identification, but no....These are from the first year or two that I started taking digital photos. This field is just up the street and around the corner from our house.
This field is amazing. I pass it every day at least once. I don't race through life, and take the 'long way' to or from work at least once a day....the ride home is probably my favorite part of the day, depending on the season. I very often stop to take a picture or two. This field looks different almost every month of the year...it would probably make an interesting calendar. It's almost never planted with a crop, that I remember. Nearby stands an old victorian house known as "the milk house." I don't know if the "milk house" property is actually a farm. I think it has always been rented to groups of related or unrelated people since we've lived over here. I think my husband has been there once or twice. Anyway: a landmark. And a very pretty field.