Ghosts of the Carolinas
Other University of South Carolina Press Books by Nancy Roberts
The Haunted South
Where Ghosts Still Roam
South Carolina Ghosts
From the Coast to the Mountains
Ghosts of the Southern Mountains and Appalachia
The Gold Seekers
Gold, Ghosts and Legends from Carolina to California
North Carolina Ghosts & Legends
Civil War Ghost Stories & Legends
Ghosts
of the Carolinas
Nancy Roberts
Foreword by Legette Blythe
The University of South Carolina Press
1962, 1967 by Nancy Roberts
1988 University of South Carolina Press
Cloth and paperback editions published by the University of South Carolina Press, 1988
Ebook edition published in Columbia, South Carolina,
by the University of South Carolina Press, 2013
First Published by McNally and Loftin,
Publishers, Charlotte, N.C. 1962
www.sc.edu/uscpress
22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Photographs by Bruce Roberts
ISBN 0-87249-586-6 (cloth)
ISBN 0-87249-587-6 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-61117-359-8 (ebook)
Contents
Foreword
MILLIONS OF WORDS have been spoken and writtenand effectivelyin heralding the attractions and advantages of the Carolinas.
Most of this material has emphasized the physical assets of the region. Some of it has even listed the high spirits of Carolinians as important intangibles in the enumeration of assets.
These promoters of the Carolinas have given little appreciation, as far as I have observed, however, to the virtues of the most intangible of these intangibles, the spirits themselves.
Yet surely no section of the nation can rightfully claim more mystifying, more intriguing, more sadly accusing, more altruistic, or more enduring ghosts. Of a certainty we have our share of the finest shades in all America. And they have gone too long uncatalogued and unappreciated.
But this failure of our generally alert and enterprising public relations folk to exploit adequately the Carolinas apparitions has been remedied in part at least by Nancy Roberts and her photographer husband Bruce. With the publication a few years ago of An Illustrated Guide to Ghosts and Mysterious Occurrences in the Old North State and now this volume on other ghosts of both Carolinas, Nancy and Bruce Roberts promulgate our claim to possession of some of the most frightening and charming and authenticated ghosts that have ever walkedor drifted or floated, or, tritely, hauntedthe American scene.
The new book evenly shares between the two states certain of the more notable apparitions. Many of these shades even yet materialize, or seem to, from out of the deep past; they are venerable and respected and long have been spoken of even with affection. One such is the Gray Man of Pawleys Island, South Carolina, a benevolent ancient-young man whose appearance to those who see his apparition strolling along the beach has become a warning to flee from a closely approaching hurricane. Some are peculiarly and identifiably Carolinian; others are reported to materialize from time to time in widely separated states. Some are not even human emanations, like the ghostly Hound of Goshen, a frightening apparition that has scared the daylights out of many persons through long years. But to give that old spirit dog his due, though he has chased dozens, maybe scores or hundreds of horses, mules and terrified people to near exhaustion, he has not to this day bitten man or beast.
Difficult to classify are some of the others in this bookthe Brown Mountain lights, for example. Are they the spectral torches of Indian braves slain in a long-ago battle along the mountains ridges? Or could they be the luminous apparitions of Indian maidens seeking lovers lost in that battle? Or indeed, are they but a natural phenomenon never satisfactorily explained? There are those who think thatpersons who, perish the thought, have neither eyes to see a ghost materialize nor ears to hear his almost soundless coming, nor skin sensitized to notice the sudden swift clamminess of his passing. But for a fact the lights do appear above Brown Mountain, whether ghostly, gaseous, reflected, or mirage. I have seen them myself.
To illustrate his wifes intriguing stories, Bruce Roberts has artfully planned and skillfully executed photographs of the sites of certain mysterious occurrences. And even though they may not convince all the books readers of the reality of its spectral characters, most surely they must earn the plaudits of the more vainglorious in his ghostly gallery.
LEGETTE BLYTHE
Huntersville, North Carolina
September, 1962
Ghosts of the Carolinas
The tavern keepers desk looks the same today as it did a hundred years ago. The Tavern is part of the Old Salem restoration at Winston-Salem.
The Talking Corpse
THE KEEPER OF OLD SALEM TAVERN NEVER FORGOT THE NIGHT A DEAD MAN BROUGHT HIM A MESSAGE
A s the keeper of Salem Tavern busily greeted new arrivals, he had not the slightest premonition that this night was to be the start of a most unusual chain of events.
It was a bitterly cold November evening and a drizzling rain added to the discomfort of travelers. Many decided to stop early and enjoy the Taverns cheer. It was a house of entertainment with a widespread reputation for hospitality and had often been host to distinguished visitors. George Washington himself lodged here for two days on his 1791 visit to North Carolina.
As the hour grew late the social rooms emptied, the guests retired, and the tavern keeper sat alone before his upright walnut desk. His office door opened off one side of the rear of the large tavern hall. Behind it was the sitting room used by his own family. At the left of his desk was a small window which admitted enough light to allow him to see his accounts. And at the far end of the tiny cubicle stood a tall wardrobe.
Oftentimes before he went to bed the tavern keeper would check his menu for the following day. As his eyes scanned the listing of mutton, venison, vegetables, kraut, cheese, and gingerbread, he thought he heard a faint rapping sound. He stepped out into the hall and listened. There was someone at the front door.
While he threw back the heavy bolt the hall clock chimed half after eleven. He opened the door and a man staggered across the threshold. A wave of irritation swept over the tavern keeper at the thought of having to deal with a drunken traveler at this hourand then he saw his guests face. It was gray and drawn with suffering.
This was no drunk. It was a desperately ill man.
The tavern keeper summoned the hostler to care for his visitors mare, seated the man in a chair in the gentlemens room and went to arouse his two slaves. One he sent after a doctor with all possible haste, and the other he directed to help the sick man to his room. The man was in such anguish that he could not even tell the tavern keeper his name. So the keeper decided to wait until morning to register him. By now the doctor had arrived. He examined the patient, administered some medicine from his bag and then drew the tavern keeper to one side.
This man is gravely ill. If he is not much improved by morning, you must call me.
