Presley Carter Balderson

I wrote earlier about my great-great grandfather Presley Balderson and his 3 brothers who were all members of the 40th VA Infantry regiment during the Civil War (The AWOL Season, 5/12/16.)

As a recap, Presley, the youngest of the 4,  enlisted in Warsaw, VA on June 4, 1861 along with his older brother William, into Company D.  Charles and James had enlisted 10 days earlier into Company B; they were both musicians, and both were shoe/bootmakers.  Presley was first sent to Chimborazo Hospital beginning a month after the death of William (wounded fatally at Gaines' Mill on June 27, 1862) and Charles' illness and discharge (in mid-late July 1862.) This was immediately following the regiment's engagement at Cedar Mountain, and he may have been the one casualty listed on the muster list.  The reason for his hospitalization was "debilitas," in other words, weakness or feebleness: exhaustion.  He remained in the hospital until October 23-- a period of over 2 months, after which he was furloughed and instructed to report back for duty on December 1.  He was absent without leave for the month of December, but returned in January, along with his brother James.   Presley was readmitted to Chimborazo in May of 1863 after receiving a gunshot wound through the left shoulder at Chancellorsville. This wound is renowned in family lore because of the harrowing treatment it received from the surgeon:  a red hot poker was driven through it. It's moments like this that can change the trajectory of the future.  The furlough that followed meant that Presley missed the events in Gettysburg, which proved close to disastrous for his regiment.   

Earlier this week, I was poking around at some research and found two wonderful things:  First, a labeled copy of an unlabeled photograph that I have at home.  I love the photo; it's more casual and candid than the posed formal photos you usually see from this era.  The man in the photo has always reminded me of my dad, Carson...just something about his height, build, and kind face.  I knew that he must be a Balderson, but I didn't know which one, or even from what decade the photo might be.  The labeled photo confirmed that it is none other than Presley Carter Balderson and his wife Mary Ann Coates Balderson.  This dates the photo to sometime before 1904, when Mary died while sweeping the floor at home.  

On the same day, I found the obituary shown below, which is lovingly written and detailed, AND adds important information about Presley's service during the war as well as his character.  I didn't know about his participation at the Bloody Angle (the Muleshoe) during the Battle of Spotsylvania Courthouse, although I had heard a snippet about him supposedly rescuing the colors at some battle; I figured it was at Chancellorsville.  So it was great to read his story as he told it just before he died.  ---Yet another instance where fate intervened, the universe watched over him, and he summoned the courage to do his best for his regiment ("team.") And he was rewarded with survival, and a long life.  He outlived Mary Ann by 21 years, and lived to the ripe age of 88.  He met his death with courage and a peaceful heart, it seems.

The AWOL Season

A few years ago, I promised a post talking about why so many people in the 40th Virginia went AWOL in the Fall of 1862.

A lot of time has passed since then, but I've finally gotten around to looking at the service records of some of the men.  I've also done more reading about the war experience for soldiers, and the incidence and manifestations, during and in the years following the Civil War, of what we would now call PTSD.  I'm not saying that these men were suffering from that, but records so far indicate plenty of reasons for particularly high stress at this time.

Here is what happened with my great-great grandfather and his three brothers.



In 1860, in the Stony Hill district of Richmond County, Virginia, there were 15 households headed by Baldersons.  For the most part, they were farmers, but not BIG farmers...the largest Balderson farm having a real and personal value of $10,500, and the next largest, $600.  Most were much, much smaller, averaging out at $806.  By contrast, Robert Wormeley Carter, the largest landowner in the district, had a farm worth $325,000.  This is the same parcel on which Ebenezer Balderson, my many-times-great-grandfather and a Scottish immigrant, had worked as an indentured servant during the first half of the previous century.

It's in the household headed by James Bailey Balderson, age 56, that our great-great-grandfather Presley lived.  In 1860, Presley was the only son living at home, along with a younger sister, Margaret.  The oldest Balderson brother, Charles, was a shoemaker who had been teaching his younger brother, James, the trade.  James lived in the home of Charles and Charles' young family.  Charles and James, 33 and 25 years old, both enlisted in Company B of the 40th Virginia Regiment on May 25, 1861.  Both were musicians, but I have yet to find out what instrument(s) they played.

The second oldest brother, William (29), and Presley, the youngest at 23 (and my great-great-grandfather,) enlisted ten days later, in the Richmond County seat at Warsaw. Both were in Company D, along with some other Balderson cousins who enlisted on the same day.

William was the first casualty among the brothers.
Wounded on June 27, 1862 at the battle of Gaines' Mill, he died 2 weeks later, on July 13 at a hospital in Richmond.  For a long time, I was unable to find out where he was buried, but recently I found scanned copies of his service records.  Balderson is misspelled as "Bollison" on the records; interestingly, this is exactly how my father, as a small boy, pronounced his grandmother's last name, and she even signed his birthday card "Grandmother Bollison" when he turned three.   This might be  how everyone pronounced it where they lived.  Anyway, Uncle William is buried in the soldiers' section of Hollywood Cemetery, the famous Confederate cemetery in Richmond City.  Probably in an unmarked grave.

Charles had been ill shortly before William's death, and was sent to Chimborazo Hospital in Richmond. Three days after William's death, possibly even from the same hospital, he was furloughed and then discharged from service. He had a wife and a few children already at home.  He returned to shoe and boot-making, and lived on into the 1890s.

The third brother, James, was a musician like Charles; they had both this and shoemaking in common. In James' records, he is listed as AWOL in the fall of 1862, just a couple of months after William died and Charles subsequently became ill and was discharged home.  We  don't know where James went or what he did in the months he was gone, but his records include a report of him being a prisoner, paroled on November 25, 1862. By January 1863, he and Presley had returned to service, the only two Balderson brothers remaining in the Army after less than two years of service.

The fourth and youngest brother, Presley, was sent to Chimborazo Hospital for the first time beginning a month after the death of William and Charles' illness and discharge.  This was immediately following the regiment's engagement at Cedar Mountain, and he may have been the one casualty listed on the muster list.  The reason for his hospitalization was "debilitas," in other words, weakness or feebleness:  exhaustion.  He remained in the hospital until October 23-- a period of over 2 months, after which he was furloughed and instructed to report back for duty on December 1.  He was absent without leave for the month of December, but returned in January, along with his brother James. 

That May, the war became very eventful for the brothers with the battle of Chancellorsville. James found himself so close to an exploding artillery shell that he lost his hearing. During the following 6 months, James was hospitalized more than once, going  AWOL again in July and August of 1863.  He was contracted in the spring of '64 to make shoes for Walker's Brigade, possibly 'alternative' service, due to loss of hearing or other wounds or illness.

Also at Chancellorsville, Presley received a gunshot wound through the left shoulder while defending the regimental flag after its bearer became a casualty (this is the story.....) This wound is renowned in family lore because of the harrowing treatment it received from the surgeon:  a red hot poker was driven through it. It's moments like this that can change the trajectory of the future.  His hospitalization at Chimborazo and the furlough that followed meant that Presley missed the events in Gettysburg, which proved close to disastrous for his regiment.   

Fate intervened again at Weldon Railroad near Petersburg in August of 1864. During the dark and confusing violence, in the pouring rain, Presley was wounded through the left hand, an injury that would cause him pain and difficulty for the rest of his life as he supported his family by farming. While at home recovering in the late summer and early fall, he married his second cousin, Mary Ann Coates, who was probably a relative of Charles' wife, Virginia.  Family story says that his old rusty (or bloodstained) bayonet  hung over the fireplace at the home of his grandson, Sherwood (my uncle) in Howard County, MD. Sherwood's stepson may have taken it, and its whereabouts are unknown.

So, all of the brothers became absent for a period following immediately, or within a few months of their brother William's death.  Charles never returned, and was discharged for reasons unknown. 

___________________________________________________________________________ 

During the course of the next twenty four years, Presley and his wife Mary had 5 sons --- Burlington Lafayette, Valverde Manco, Franklin Lesley, Elton Presley, and Wilmore Earle; and 3 daughters --- Dorothy "Dora", Margaret "Maggie", and Emma.

The youngest of Presley's children, born when he was about 50, was my great-grandfather, Wilmore. Wilmore is small and his face is serious in the tintype that was taken of him with his elderly parents in around 1895. His mother appears severe, even a little frightening, dressed in mourning; Presley looks tired, but is smiling broadly as he stands behind his wife and youngest child.  Later, when he was a young teenager, Wilmore was the only witness to his mother's death, after a sudden collapse while she was sweeping.  She never regained consciousness.  At this time his father, who had always been a farmer, was a disabled war veteran, unable to do much work of any kind in his later years. He was finally granted a small pension in 1915, ten years before his death at the age of 88.

When Wilmore grew up, he married Landonia "Tully" Minor, a young woman who had grown up in the same small corner of Virginia.  According to my father, her family felt that they were somehow better than my great-grandfather's family.  

Wilmore and Tully's first child, a daughter, was born in January, 1912.  Her mother almost died following the birth, and Aunt Dora, her husband's big sister, came to the rescue.  Aunt Dora took care of the baby for the month or so of my great-grandmother's recovery, and at some point during that time, she named the baby after herself:  "Dorothy."  Not everyone was thrilled that she did this.  Baby Dorothy was my grandmother.

 Aunt Dora had married Robert France in 1896, a man whose father had served in the war alongside her father. Their fathers' lives traveled parallel paths and these two must have had some common experiences growing up; they were raised on the same war stories, and probably grew up within each others' sight.  They eventually moved up the peninsula and north to Washington D.C., where they had a son and adopted a daughter by the name of Isabelle Galahan.

A little over a year after the birth of Dorothy the younger, Letitia Countee, the local midwife, came to the farm in Newland to deliver Tully's second baby, a daughter.  Sadly, Mary Althea lived only 6 hours.  She was named after both of her grandmothers.

When Dorothy was very small, her father studied at Lynchburg College to become a minister.  Soon after graduation, he and Tully became the parents of a boy who they named Sherwood. In the years that followed, Wilmore and his young family moved here and there in Virginia, the D.C. suburbs, and  as far southwest as Harlan, Kentucky, on assignments at different churches.  A few years later a third child was born, a second boy named Tennyson Carlyle.

1577

Doctor's Report from 1880 Census....St. George Dist,. Accomack County, VA - transcription.

'The only contagious diseases that have prevailed in my district during the past year are the mumps and whooping cough; the latter of which has proved fatal in a few instances.  My district is situated in an exceedingly level section of country, extremely well adapted for railroads, which may here be constructed at less expense than perhaps in any other part of the United States.  It has long sustained the reputation abroad, of being very unhealthy, so much so that strangers regard it as a sort of death spot.  But its exceeding healthiness for the last six years has contributed greatly to retrieve its character in that respect.  Indeed, I believe it to be as healthy as any part of Virginia which is not mountainous.  It is true, that the mortality on this shore in bygone days was very great, but that, I think, was owing more to the luxurious and epicurean style of living which then prevailed than to the climate.  For now, when terrapin and oyster suppers and bacchanalian carousals have become less frequent, a very decided improvement in the health of the Peninsula has taken effect which is likely to increase as the Sons of Temperance are making very strenuous and successful efforts to do away with the use of intoxicating liquors, that well known source of disease and premature death.  The district is free from rocks, and contains but little timber adapted to ship building………..however there is enough that is useful for building small schooners; and also the erection of dwelling houses.  The most common tree is common pine, which grows very rapidly, the leaves of which are much…….making beds for hogs and cattle.  This when decomposed and compounded……substance makes a very excellent manure, and is very  generally used.  There is a compound, de…..nated among us “……..”, which has also been found to be highly useful as for fertilizing the soil; owing to the salt with which it is very strongly impregnated, our lands requiring manure of character.  This grass is ….. in great abundance to our bay and ocean…it is also much used in our ice houses for ….. ice, which it has the main …..of preserving.  ………. Are unknown on the Eastern Shore.  ….., known…….(next page missing.)'

(this is a snapshot of the place my grandfather's family came from, thirty years before he was born.  they had lived in this place for about 250 years, at the time. I think this was written during the time that there was a campaign to persuade the railroad to come to the eastern shores of Md. and Va.)

Jail-keeping and Wolves' Heads **

November 7, 2007

While taking a break from working very hard on this quarter's statistics at work today, I found a really cool and amazing thing on a genealogy site....transcriptions of Westmoreland County, Virginia court records concerning John Minor (a 10th great-grandfather from Garway, Herefordshire...the immigrant!) and his wife, Ellinor. This document has his date of birth as 1625, which could be more accurate than my date of 1600. But look! He was in court practically ALL the time, which I guess is not shocking since this also reveals that he was the undersherriff of Sheriff Youell for many years. It looks like he was responsible for prisoners, and for building a jail, providing accommodations for transported indentureds, etc etc which his wife seems to have continued after his death. This is totally fascinating, and I recognize some of the other names in these records as names appearing in my tree, too (Bull, Allerton, Sturman, and even a Thomas Vaughn who maybe he knew from back home?)

John Minor's Court Records

***October 23, 2015.  This REALLY needs to be about the wolfs heads!

John Chandler - Part One

 I find it interesting that this year, the year my father died, is also the year that two major immigrant brick walls have come down in my family history research.  One of those walls has revealed John Chandler, the youngest person at the time of his arrival to ever land at Jamestown.  The timing was dramatic; if he had been on an earlier fleet, he may have had to endure The Starving Time, which ended with the arrival of Lord DeLaWarr's fleet in 1610, on which John was a passenger.  The evidence linking this particular John Chandler to my family was established earlier this year, following genetic testing and research...more details of that later.  Some months ago I began putting together John Chandler's story, and typed up the sketch below to give context to his arrival:

                     The situation at Jamestown, Virginia on June 10, 1610, the day that                            John Chandler  (age 9) arrived on board the Hercules, the third ship in Thomas West, Lord DeLaWarr’s fleet

At the end of the previous summer (October 4), an injured John Smith returned to England.  Conditions in Jamestown quickly deteriorated. Relations with the natives quickly went from a fragile truce to an open campaign by Chief Powhatan to starve out the colonists.  Since previously, colonists had relied on trade with the natives for the bulk of their food supply, this spelled huge trouble with the coming winter.  The colonists had neglected their fishnets, which rotted in the water.  Hunting was extremely dangerous, since natives attempted to kill anyone who left the fort.

The expected fleet from England had suffered damage from a hurricane that summer, with the flagship becoming stranded in Bermuda, with a bulk of the supplies and food. One ship returned to England, and the seven other ships landed at Jamestown, delivering 200-300 men, women, and children and few supplies.  Although a fleet returned to England to warn of the settlers’ predicament, no further supply ships arrived that year, or the following spring.

The Starving Time followed, and that winter, 88% of the approximately 500 colonists died.  All of the fort’s animals were eaten, many houses and parts of the palisade were burned for firewood, and some even resorted to cannibalism to survive. 

The Bermuda contingent, including the recently widowed John Rolfe, arrived in May of 1610 to find 60 sick and starving colonists confined to the safety of the blockhouse, with the rest of the fort deteriorated around them.  It was decided to abandon the colony and on June 7, 1610, everyone boarded the ships and began to sail down the James River. 

At approximately 10 miles downriver from Jamestown, they were met by a fleet of supply ships led by Thomas West, Lord DeLaWarr, that had left England on April 1.  The newly appointed Governor West headed the group back to Jamestown.  On the third ship in this fleet, the Hercules, the youngest passenger was John Chandler.  He was also the youngest person to date to have been sent/brought to Jamestown.

*Governor Percy had sent Capt. Francis West on a trading mission to the Potomac.  After trading for corn, West and his men on the Swallow began to return to Jamestown, and at Ratcliffe’s fort at the mouth of the James learned that the colony was in dire need and had resorted to cannibalism.  Instead of proceeding with due speed, they headed to sea and consumed the corn themselves on a return trip to England.

Although he was very young, John Chandler wasn't traveling with relatives.  It is not known if he had any connection to anyone else on the fleet, or why he was aboard.  Just a few weeks later, another boy would arrive:  Thomas Willoughby, age 10, whose uncle was an investor in the Virginia Company.  It is a safe bet that the two boys, as the only children in the colony, became friends.  In any case, by 1624, John Chandler was living as an employee at Thomas Willoughby's military encampment at Elizabeth City.  John Chandler's fortunes were just about to change.  (to be continued)

Margaret Hopkins Fitzgerald and the Burning of Hampton

(April 19, 2010)

Today a friend remarked that it saddens him to see boxes of old photos in an antique or thrift store, knowing that the descendants of the people in the photos either no longer have an interest in them, or perhaps don't even know who they were. Names and dates are one kind of knowledge.....but stories are another. I have collected so many names, dates, and locations while learning the history of my family, and I am consumed by curiosity about what they did...what happened to them...what were the big events in their lives? ---as well as small clues about their personality traits. I want to learn things about them and write them down, so these stories and details aren't lost forever just because nobody remembers them. I will never know exactly what these people were like, but I can put together clues from the places and times they lived in and what details I can find. This is an exciting process.

So, last Friday when on a bored and idle whim I decided to search for historical documents about Thomas Fitzgerald (a great-great grandfather whose parentage I hadn't figured out yet), imagine my surprise when I found an article entitled "A Short History of Bascom's Chapel, Eastern Shore Methodism During the Civil War, and the Hopkins/FitzGerald Family Connection." I know. It sounds pretty boring. I'm not at all fascinated by church history, and although I am interested in the Civil War, I didn't think much of anything happened on the Eastern Shore, and it looks like it didn't......other than Federal troops taking over church buildings for barracks, and similar things. No, the exciting part was "the Hopkins/FitzGerald Family Connection", and while I'm not terribly interested in their religious affiliations and loyalties, this article contained an exciting passage about Margaret Hopkins Fitzgerald, Thomas' wife and my grandfather's great-grandmother:

"It was during the winter, late 1861 or early 1862, while the Yankee troops used the churches and schools in Onancock as barracks and set up tent encampments on private property throughout the town, that Margaret Anne Hopkins FitzGerald, an early war widow, slipped through the blockade and arrived with her seven children to live in Onancock. Her eldest son, Nehemiah, was serving with the 2nd Company of Richmond Howitzers. Her brother, John P.L. Hopkins, had sent a schooner to bring her home from wherever she had fled when Hampton, Virginia was burned to the ground (in August, 1861.) She had resided there in Elizabeth City County since her marriage on Christmas Day, 1837 in Onancock.

"With her husband dead, her home burned, and no means of support, Margaret moved to a house provided by her father, Stephen A. Hopkins, who most likely also provided financial support. She took in sewing to add a few pennies to her meager funds. Just a few steps away from her front door at 25 King Street, today known as the Fitzgerald House, was a church building---Bascom's Chapel."

........ I found another article today which stated that Stephen Hopkins (Margaret's father) was one of two men 'authorized' to run ships out of Onancock past the blockade, which must explain why her brother could go and fetch her from Hampton

Bascom's Chapel was formed in the 1840s, when the Methodist Church split over the question of ownership of slaves. Bascom's was the 'pro-slavery' church, from what I can determine. The article goes on to talk about Margaret's involvement and dispute with the chapel in later years.

I did learn several new things in this article--- First of all, that because Margaret is referred to as an "early war widow," Thomas E. Fitzgerald's death (which I have recorded as occuring in 1863, but according to this article he was dead by the beginning of 1862) had something to do with the war, whether he was a soldier or got caught up in the action as a citizen. I'm wondering if it had to do with the occupation or the burning of Hampton. Also, I learned the identity of the Fitzgerald (Nehemiah) who served in the Confederate Army. My dad had told me only that it was 'one of the boys.' After the war, Nehemiah went to California, where he worked as a teacher. He must have had an interesting life. During the course of my bored and idle searching on Friday, I also found the probable parents of Thomas Fitzgerald....wouldn't you know, he is descended from the Onancock Chandlers, into whose family his daughter would then marry. His grandson was Carson Fitzgerald Chandler, the first of three men to have that name. The youngest is my father.

The photo below shows the first Carson Fitzgerald Chandler, Margaret and Thomas' grandson, with his wife Edith Augusta "Gussie" Walsh Chandler and my grandfather, Carson F. Chandler Jr., as a baby. It was taken in about 1915 in Virginia.

Old House Woods -- Part III

Stories from Old House Woods, Part III

The community surrounding the Old House Woods in Mathews County, Virginia is rife with tales of mysterious appearances and disappearances which have never been satisfactorily explained. These stories involve both humans and animals. Our friend Harry Forrest spoke passionately about this in 1951:

"It was near 100 years ago that Lock Owens and Pidge Morgan came through these woods with their steer, on the way back from a cattle auction, and nothing's been seen of 'em since. Steer, carts, and everything disappeared in there. Lock had a little black dog and the only thing that was ever found of it was a little bunch of hair off of that dog's tail.

There used to be a lot of cattle down on these points, but they got to wandering in here and never came out. Everything that comes in here heads for the Old Cow Hole and disappears. It's very strange. One night that Old Cow Hole will be covered with water, the next it's dry. Some night it'll be light enough to pick up a pin in these woods, and black and storming outside. And sometimes, you'll come in here and it'll be pouring down. You get wringing, soaking wet, you can wipe the water off you. And then you come out and you'll be perfectly dry."

Perhaps the story of Owens and Morgan explains why there have been numerous reports of headless cattle wandering around in the woods.

Harry Forrest once took a newspaperman to see Old Cow Hole. The reporter described it as a small circular pool of gray water, which seemed to swirl, yet was dead still. Forrest believed that Old Cow Hole is where the legendary money was buried by one or all of the groups mentioned in the earlier sections of this story. He also believed that someone was killed and buried along with the treasure, to 'guard' it.

Speaking of headless animals, another well-known tale from Old House Woods concerns a farmer's wife who lived adjacent to the woods. One evening at dusk she went into a pasture to bring home the work horses. After driving them down the lane to the gate, she called to her husband to open it. He didn't answer right away, so she did it herself. As she did, her husband came out of the barn and laughed at her, saying he had put the team in the barn two hours earlier. "Don't be foolish!" she said, and when she turned to lead the team through the gate, instead of the two horses she saw two headless black dogs running back toward the Old House Woods. "That woman was my great grandmother," says Olivia Davis today. More recent reports claim that these headless dogs like to pursue moving vehicles passing through the woods, and have even been known to try to jump onto cars or into the beds of pickup trucks.

A tragic tale is told of a local fisherman named Tom Pipkin who lived nearby around 1880. Excited by the rumors of buried or sunken treasure, he took his small boat into the woods, following an old channel thought to be cut by pirates two hundred years earlier, heading for Old Cow Hole. Several days later his boat was found in the Bay. Inside were two gold coins of unknown age and a battered silver cup covered with slime and mud. One coin bore a Roman head, and the letters 'I V V S' were distinguishable. No one would claim Pipkin's boat and it was left on nearby Gwynn's Island where it rotted away. Tom Pipkin was never seen or heard from again.

"A thousand people have been in here after that money, but they'll never get it," said Harry Forrest. "The trees start bending double and howling. It storms. And they get scared and take off. The woods is haunted....that's what it is."

Maybe so. But one thing is for sure. Any being who ventures into Old House Woods, by land or by water, whether they be human or animal, may very well be disappearing into another time. They will probably return, with or without a story to tell. But there may be a small chance that they will become stuck in its strange alternate dimension and take their place among the ranks of the long dead, but not forgotten, denizens of Old House Woods.

"There's everything in there." - Harry Forrest

The stories of Old House Woods have been brought to you with the assistance of L.B. Taylor's delightful publication, The Ghosts of Virginia, Volume I (of many!)

____________________________________________________________________________________________

(the sound of wind blowing constantly, through pine trees and marsh grass)

Old House Woods -- Part II

Did I forget to mention the headless black dogs?
Yes...but first, an example of the many accounts of skeletal 17th century soldiers in plate armor...


Jesse Hudgins, described as a respectable merchant of unquestioned integrity, told the following story to a Baltimore Sun reporter in 1926 (and to anyone else who would listen), and he swore to its authenticity.

"I do not care whether I am believed or not," he often said. "I am not apologetic nor ashamed to say I have seen ghosts (in Old House Woods.) I have seen ghosts not once, but a dozen times. I was 17 when I first actually saw a ghost, or spirit. One October night I sat by the lamp reading. A neighbor whose child was very ill came asking me to drive to Mathews for the doctor. We had no telephone in those days. I hitched up and started for town. The night was gusty, clouds drifting now and then over the moon, but I could see perfectly, and whistled as I drove along.

"Nearing Old House itself, I saw a light about 50 yards ahead moving along the road in the direction I was going. My horse, usually afraid of nothing, cowered and trembled violently. I felt rather uneasy myself. I have seen lights on the road at night, shining lanterns carried by men, but this light was different. There was something unearthly about it. The rays seemed to come from nowhere, and yet they moved with the bearer.

"I gained on the traveler, and as I stand here before you, what I saw was a big man wearing a suit of armor. Over his shoulder was a gun, the muzzle end of which looked like a fish horn. As he strode, or floated along, he made no noise. My horse stopped still, I was weak with terror and horror. I wasn't 20 feet from the thing, whatever it was, when it, too, stopped and faced me.

"At the same time, the woods about 100 feet from the wayfarer became alive with lights and moving forms. Some carried guns like the one borne by the man or thing in the road, others carried shovels of an outlandish type, while still others dug furiously near a dead pine tree.

"As my gaze returned to the first shadowy figure, what I saw was not a man in armor, but a skeleton, and every bone of it was visible through the iron of the armor, as though it were made of glass. The skull which seemed to be illuminated from within, grinned at me horribly. Then, raising aloft a sword, which I had not hitherto noticed, the awful specter started towards me menacingly.

"I could stand no more. Reason left me. When I came to, it was broad daylight and I lay upon my bed at home. Members of my family said the horse had run away. They found me at the turn of the road beyond Old House Woods. They thought I had fallen asleep. The best proof that this was not so was we could not even lead Tom (the horse) by the Old House Woods for months afterwards, and to the day he died, whenever he approached the woods, he would tremble violently and cower. It was pitiful to see that fine animal become such a victim of terror."

Some years later, another newspaper reported the account of a youth from Richmond. He experienced car trouble on the road near Old House Woods late one night. As he knelt beside his tire in the road, a voice behind him asked, "Is this the King's Highway? I've lost my ship." ( !!!! that part totally freaks me out for some reason !!! ) When the young man turned around, he beheld a skeleton in armor just a few paces away. Screaming like a maniac, he ran from the scene, not returning for his car until the next day.

----to be continued----


Old House Woods
Tidewater Virginia

Old House Woods -- Part I

~The following group of posts is plagiarized from one of my other blogs, and was first related by me last year at this time~

Old House Woods -- Part I

Old House Woods might very well be the most haunted location in Virginia. Located in Mathews County, on the shore of the Bay at the end of the Middle Peninsula, Old House Woods is the subject of almost three centuries worth of oral history tales, containing psychic phenomena so bizarre that it's hard to believe they are entirely invented.

There are a few possible explanations for the concentrated activity in this remote location. Local lore states that the crew of a pirate ship came ashore here in the 17th century, buried their loot, and returned to sea where they all died in a storm. This would explain the strange figures seen digging furiously in the woods by the light of tin lanterns. Another theory is that Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard, intercepted this group of men as they were hiding their treasure and murdered them all.

It's also possible that the treasure here belonged to Charles II of England, who following his defeat at Worcester in 1651 considered coming to Virginia. In preparation, a group of his followers loaded a ship with several chests of money, plate, and jewels, and the ship set sail for Jamestown. It never arrived. For reasons unknown, the ship sailed further up the Chesapeake Bay and anchored at the mouth of White's Creek near the Old House Woods. The treasure was offloaded, but before it could be hidden, the Royalists were set upon by a gang of escaped indentured servants. All of the Royalists were murdered and the bondsmen escaped by boat with part of the money, planning to return later for the rest. They weren't that lucky. Their ship, too, was caught in a storm, capsized, and everyone on board was drowned.

The third possible reason for the hauntings dates to 1781, when a small group of British soldiers were sent with a large amount of money and treasure to safeguard it prior to the battle at Yorktown. They headed north through enemy lines, hoping to find a british ship anchored in the Bay. They did manage to hide the treasure in the Old House Woods before they were found and killed by a unit of American cavalry.

Perfectly credible citizens over the years have reported seeing not only the lamplit diggers, but completely freaky sights including full-rigged ships floating above the woods or in the marsh at the mouth of White's Creek, luminescent skeletons in translucent plate armor carrying lanterns and strange primitive firearms, and horses and cows which appear and disappear into thin air before their eyes.

A local fisherman and farmer, Harry Forrest described several personal experiences before he passed away in the 1950s. "Once I went out on a brilliant November night to shoot black ducks," he reported, "I found a flock asleep in a little inlet where the pine trees came down to the edge of the water. As I raised my gun to fire, instead of them being ducks, I saw that they were soldiers of the olden time. Headed by an officer, a company of them formed and marched out of the water." Recovering from his shock, he hurried to his skiff tied on the other side of the point, only to find a man in a red uniform sitting in the stern. Frightened but angry, Forrest ordered him out of the skiff and threatened to shoot. The soldier replied "Shoot and the devil's curse to you and your traitor's breed," beginning to draw his sword. "Then I threw my gun on him," says Forrest,"and pulled. It didn't go off. I pulled the trigger again. No better result. I dropped the gun and ran for home, and I'm not ashamed to say I swam the creek in doing it, too."