In order for our readers to get a feel for the places we explore, we shall try to share a little of the history. This is T's baby so I will let him regale you with all that he knows about the area. And since I have already heard this once, I think I'll go and fix us a snack while he fills you in on the story of John Brown, the Civil War battles, Hog alley, the Bloody stairs, and the old Priest of St. Peters Church.
T:
John Brown led a failed raid of 21 men against the Federal Armory in Harpers Ferry on October 16th, 1859. His attack on the arsenal was but one of many of his efforts in his fight against slavery. He was arrested for inciting treason against the Commonwealth of Virginia, and was hung in Charlestown, (West) Virginia December 2nd, 1859. He is said to be seen still walking the streets of Harpers Ferry. Visitors who purported to have seen his ghost claimed that at first they thought he was a Civil War era reenactor. That first impression disappeared quickly when Brown disappeared also.
Hog Alley... well, as might be expected from the name this is not a pretty story (no offense to pigs). During John Brown’s raid on Harpers Ferry, one of only five colored folk in his band of raiders, Dangerfield Newby, was shot through the neck, and died instantly. Being as bullets were scarce in town, despite the fact that a U.S. armory was located there, Newby was not hit by a ball of lead but by a six-inch spike fired from a rifle. OUCH. The townsfolk were already riled-up at the deaths of some of their family and friends by the raiders. When Newby fell his body was repeatedly stabbed, then dismembered, and his parts were tossed into a dirt alleyway where they were mostly devoured by hogs. Sightings of Dangerfield Newby’s ghost abound. He is seen at various times, missing various body parts. ouch-ouch.
The alleyway is now a paved roadway connecting High Street with Potomac Street. It has a street sign which vanishes from time-to-time - not because of any hauntings, but at the hands of people wanting a souvenir of this tainted area. After all, one doesn’t see a ‘Hog Alley’ all that often.
As for Civil War battles in Harpers Ferry, both the North and South discovered that the town was hard to hold once captured. Surrounded by mountains, the town was a sitting duck for cannons placed high on the ridges. Unless an army controlled the countryside for miles in all directions, Harpers Ferry was a slippery prize, indeed, and it changed hands many times during the Civil War. Many soldiers lost their lives there... right in town.
That brings us to the Bloody Steps and St. Peters Catholic Church. During some of the battles in and around Harpers Ferry, the wounded were carried up the stone steps leading from lower town to St. Peters, about two fifths the way to the top of the hill. The church was used as a military hospital, and was a place that witnessed much agony and death within it's walls. The blood from wounded soldiers flowed onto the steps as they were carried up to the church. Some claim the steps still bear the bloody stains. St. Peter's Church avoided being bombarded during these conflicts because of the tactics of Father Costello. He raised the British flag above the church’s steeple. Uncertain whether the church was really on British-owned land, the encroaching armies decided to leave the building in one piece, as neither side wanted to instigate England to aid their enemy.
St. Peters Catholic Church and the Bloody Steps have been the location of numerous sightings. One very oft-told encounter is of a priest walking down the hill from the rectory. He seems normal in almost every way, until he is seen turning towards the church, walking across thin air, and passes through the wall of the building. It is rumored there was a door there, prior to a restoration in the late 1800s, and the priest is still using it to this day.
All the events listed above are not relegated to nocturnal hours, but occur almost anytime, night or day. The whole town of Harpers Ferry is said to be haunted, with volumes of ghost stories (and quaint and forgotten lore as well) which are too numerous for this post. It’s a veritable gold mine of spooks and chills. With its violent history I can certainly see why.
Anyway, this particular post presents a night-time visit to the historic and haunted, Hilltop House Hotel, perched precariously atop a ridge above town overlooking the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers. The hotel was originally built in 1888, and has been a favorite place of many famous people. A fire in the early part of the 1900s resulted in the deaths of two guests. This is fact, not legend. The rooms above the kitchen area (where the fire began) have been reported to be haunted ever since the fire. I have personally witnessed supernatural occurrences in those rooms, while staying there as a guest .
The hotel is presently closed for renovations and parts of the building gape open, covered with only a tarp to protect the interior from the elements. It is anybody’s guess when it will re-open, although the website says it is closed indefinitely. This is a much-beloved building and so the contractors seem to be treading carefully, as the eyes of the local population both living and dead are watching them.
It's just a fantastic place... ghosts or no ghosts. I've stayed there many times, and it will be a happy day when I can once again walk into the old lobby, sit myself down right in front of the fireplace, and let the atmosfear soak-in. A happy day indeed.
Well, the snacks are here, so I’ll turn things back over to our hostess. Before leaving, I just want to remind everyone that there is much history about Harpers Ferry to be found online, in libraries, and by visiting this wonderful place. Oh, and there is a cemetery at the top of the hill above town which has its own stories available. From top-to-bottom, Harper's Ferry... chills for everyone.
Llynn:
I should take this moment to introduce our last ghost explorer, Rowdy the Wonder Dog. He looks like a dust mop, and weighs about as much as a squirrel. But let me tell you he has attitude. He is part Maltese - which is where he gets his good looks, and part Chihuahua - which is where he gets the attitude! Rowdy accompanies us on many of our adventures, although when the circumstance is physically dangerous, he has to wait in the car. Don't worry, he gets his favorite snacks for his patience and, being a small dog with attitude, he would rather travel than wait at home.
At Hilltop House Hotel there is a tree-lined walkway along the end of the bluff that provides a view of the valley and rivers below. It is a place where people go to stroll, walk their dogs, make out, etc. When we arrived in the parking lot of Hotel, there was one other vehicle already parked there. I am not one to throw all caution to the wind, and so we waited until the other car left before we began our explorations. We spent about a half hour or so wandering around the newer section of the hotel, called the Lodge. We looked at the state of the building, the fixtures in need of repairs, the detritus left behind by other corporeal visitors, and the old furniture stored in one of the lobby areas.
I tend to notice the nuances of the architecture, as well as all that has suffered neglect over the years. We also noted that behind the Lodge a large tree has fallen against the building, although it does not appear to have caused any damage.
The guestrooms of the Lodge run at an angle away from the main area, which was once called the Annex. This wing consists of two floors of rooms which have both a front and back door, with covered breezeways on both sides of the building. The doors of the guestrooms are screwed shut, probably to prohibit vandals from wreaking havoc. There is also a maintenance area below the rooms which seems to be a local hangout, based on the number of empties that have accumulated down there. On the upper level we found another small maintenance closet at the far end of the wing. Inside this is an access door to the attic area above the rooms. The panel for this access has been removed, but we were reluctant to attempt climbing up through it. Besides the possible wild life that might be in there, I did not want to witness what damage has potentially been done to the structure. We did not notice any events at this newer building, although there are rumors of Civil War Era soldiers patrolling the road between the two buildings.
After perusing the Lodge area, we decided it was time to head to the grand Hotel and see if we could "scare anything up". We circled the main Hotel but, like the Lodge, all the doors appear to be sealed against potential vandals... and ghostly explorers. The veranda that used to front the hotel no longer has a roof, and the area that gapes is at the level of the second floor. Being a mistress of detail, I stopped to look in every window, noticing all that was there, and hoping to discover things that were not.
Peering in the window of the great room that joins the turret of the hotel, I heard a noise and saw a door swing open. I was overjoyed that T had found a way in and we would be able to explore all the mystique of this lovely building. Surprisingly, as I rounded the turret there was T crashing out of the bushes. I was stunned. I told him I was certain he had gotten inside because of the door opening. Not so Beanie boy. This was the first strange happening of our adventure.
We continued to circle the building, checking doors and windows, with Rowdy the Wonder Dog following on our heels. The owners will be happy to know how secure everything still is! At last we came to a porch on the rear of the building, which is the entry to the kitchen. Beneath this porch we found a wooden panel that was open. This entry led under the hotel and into a maintenance area next to the basement which provides access to plumbing and wiring.
When I walked into this area, Rowdy would not follow me. He stayed at the door and growled nervously. When I turned back to approach him he attempted to lead me away from the hotel. He was leaving and trying to get me to follow. Sadly for him I am far more persistent about exploring than he is about leaving. We picked him up and carried him, thereby ensuring his compliance and providing a measure of safety for him.
Lo and behold, in the maintenance cellar we found the entry to the grand adventure! Unfortunately, as with all stories, there is always a catch. The opening was the size of an old basement window, which scarcely allowed passage of the smaller female frame. Needless to say it was a tight fit.
Not one to be daunted, and after much finagling, I finally managed to get my feet through (with the support of T's broad back), and lower myself to the basement floor several feet below. Now it was T's turn. Did I mention that it barely allowed a smaller female frame? Well, T, being a manly man, does not have a small female frame. He just wasn't going to be able to fit his broad chest through that small opening... and we didn't have any bear grease. I was on my own, much to T's dismay. With a promise that I would only search for a door that I might be able to open for him, I ventured off to see what I could see. Giving him assurances (yes, he is a little overprotective) that I would not go very far, I began my systematic search of the hotel basement. I observed the old stonework of the original building, the many rooms with old plumbing parts and other old appliances, the muddy dirt floors, and I found a couple of well-secured doors.
Heading deeper into this basement area I noticed a chair perched underneath an old pipe that had been partially pulled down. My immediate thought was of the movie "The Bone Collector", where the victims are secured to pipes in the old subway tunnels and left to die. Yes, creepy! I refused to let my imagination create something sinister from an old chair and broken pipe and so I pressed on. Following a circuitous route, I finally found an open door... into the hotel proper. I recognized the area from our explorations outside, noting items that I had observed through windows earlier.
Keep in mind that T and Mr. Rowdy are still outside, and I am alone in a purportedly haunted hotel. OK, you might say. So what? My point exactly. I don't believe that ghosts intend to hurt us, merely get our attention. (Although, I do have to say that if I were to come back as a ghost I would probably get much amusement from scaring the doodoo out of people.) Needless to say, I continued my search for a door that would open so that T and I could explore together. I proceeded around the river side of the building, which holds a large open dining area and a windowed hallway also used for dining, and offered the fabulous views of the valley below.
Sadly, not one of the doors would open, despite my persistence. Keeping in mind my promise to T, I headed back to the basement and left exploring the hotel for another time when we could both be there. Just before I passed through the basement door, I glanced to the left and noticed a small stair - about three steps, which led to the room I would walk beneath. Giving a heavy sigh at the possibilities, I stepped through the basement door headed back to my waiting escorts. I hadn't taken more than two steps when suddenly I heard footsteps on the floor above me. I immediately froze and listened. There were exactly three very solid thuds - like a hard-soled boot or shoe walking slowly. Just three. No more.
I remember I felt very matter of fact about it. Very pleased that I had heard something. But, remember that chair and the pipe? Well, what if it wasn't a ghost that I heard? What if I wasn't alone in the building? T is on the other side of a wall behind a window he can't fit through, and Rowdy the Wonder dog wouldn't be much defense against a two-legged predator. That stairway was only 5 feet from the door behind me. Hmmmm. Remember earlier when I sad I am not one to throw all caution to the wind? I decided that, in the interest of safety, it would be best for me to make my departure expeditiously. I did not run, but walked at a steady pace with my senses tuned to any noise or movement behind me. And believe it or not, I did not turn around to see if anyone was there. I continued winding my way back to T, surprising myself by finding my way without error.
When I saw T and Rowdy, I couldn't contain my excitement any longer. I was bursting with the report of hearing footsteps. Once again we attempted to find an entry for T to join me. Sadly, it was not to be, and so with much effort and assistance I clambered back through the window, leaving further Ghostly explorings for another day.
Reluctantly we left the Hotel behind, and drove off in search of other spectral events. We decided to walk around the town and just enjoy the atmosphere and lights on this lovely Christmas night. We parked next to St. Peter's, and walked down to the veranda in front of the Church entrance. The lights on the veranda, as well as the front of the church, were still on when we arrived. There was also a small glowing Christmas tree in the corner, paying homage to the holiday. We stood enjoying the peaceful balmy night, discussing the towns violent past.
T was a wonderful tour guide as we read historic signs, looked at old architecture, visited Hog Alley, and kept our senses open to possibilities. We did note that the "Bloody steps" had wet shoe prints on them, even though no one was around but us. They could have been left earlier by someone passing and stepping into the small pockets of water on the steps. We did note though that our own shoe prints did not remain as distinctly evident as those we saw. This still could be because we didn't get into as much water.
After our brief walking tour we returned to the patio in front of St. Peters Church. Here we discovered that the lights on the front of the church were now out. Perhaps on a timer somewhere? We sat on a bench to the side of the veranda, and spoke of the past, the future, the possibilities. At some point I became aware that I had tingling on my arms, and we seemed to be experiencing a pocket of coldness, even though the night remained unseasonably warm. Sadly, we had no sightings of spectral priests or of dying Civil War soldiers. Perhaps another day besides Christmas is more suited to the ghosts of the past.
We shall return to Harpers Ferry, and to Hilltop House Hotel. We shall keep you posted and if you, dear reader, should happen to visit Harpers Ferry, please share any events you may experience yourself.
Blessings and Happy Hauntings,
Llynn
Hi Theresa,
ReplyDeleteI came across your site just now. I stayed at the Hilltop House many times in the late 80's and early 90's when I lived in DC. I had many great times there and I miss the view from the porch after a long day riding along the C&O Canal.
On my last time there, I woke up in the middle of the night to find what I think was a shadowy dark figure straddling my chest, choking me. I could not speak and I was struggling to breath. My traveling companion heard my gasping and turned on the light, and that ended the incident. I was covered in sweat and my heart was racing for several minutes afterwards. I have no doubt that entity was entirely malevolent and meant to harm. I am 51 years old, and I have never experienced anything like it before or since.