Post by Graveyardbride on Jul 28, 2022 8:24:26 GMT -5
Ghosts of July
Very few anniversary ghosts manifest during the month of July, and in the United States, there are only three: one each in Florida, Maine and New York. And even the UK, which is usually crawling with ghosts at all times of the year, has just seven who make an annual appearance in July.
United States
July 11: On July 11, 1906, Chester Gillette murdered Grace Brown, his pregnant fiancée, on Big Moose Lake in Herkimer County, New York. According to legend, every year since on the anniversary of her death, a bloodcurdling scream emanates from Punky Bay, a secluded part of the lake where she died. (See “July 11, 1906: Grace Brown - Death on Big Moose Lake.”)
July 12: On the night of July 11-12, 1807, the schooner Charles was returning to Portland, Maine, from Boston, but as she neared her destination, a heavy fog rolled in and to compound an already deadly situation, gale-force winds commenced battering the sides of the wooden ship. Too late, Captain Jacob Adams, age 35, realized his vessel was much too near the shore and Charles struck Watts Ledge, a craggy rock approximately 50 feet off the eastern side of Richmond Island, a slab of land comprising the southernmost point of Cape Elizabeth. Adams and three other men were able to crawl onto the rocks and swim to the island beach, but when he heard the desperate cries of his wife, Dorcas, and other passengers, the captain swam back to the foundering ship, stuck firmly on the claw-like protuberance. For in excess of an hour, he attempted to board the vessel, but his strength eventually failed him and he, along with 12 passengers and four crewman drowned in the turbulent waters of the cold Atlantic. The following morning, the captain’s body and those of three other victims were recovered, but the remains of his wife never washed ashore. The pair left two daughters, aged 12 and 17.
A few days later, The Eastern Argus, a Portland newspaper, reporting on the disaster, wrote:
“Seventeen of the number were washed overboard, or perished clinging to the wreck, which was drenched by every billow. Then was the child torn from the mother’s arms and the husband widowed of his love. In vain were the efforts of a friend, to preserve a friend. The screams of terror, and the cries of despair were unavailing. There was none to save – The roar of the waves drowned the moan of distress; and it was heard no more. In the pride of health, in the glow of expectation, with the present prospect of rejoicing with friends; Death arrested their course, and added their names to the register of mortality. May the greeting of angels welcome them to that blessed haven, which is vexed not by storms, nor troubled with disasters, and their souls be harbored in peace.”
Among the bodies of those deposited on the shore was that of Lydia Carver (above) of Freeport. The 24-year-old daughter of a rich Portland businessman, the young woman had sailed to Boston to purchase her bridal trousseau. Near her pale, white corpse on the beach, there rested a huge wooden trunk containing among other items, the lady’s wedding gown. According to contemporary reports, the palms of Lydia’s hands were severely cut, indicating the young bride-to-be had clung to the ship’s rigging, possibly for hours, before the angry waves claimed her. Miss Carver is buried in a small graveyard near the Inn by the Sea, a swanky resort at 40 Bowery Beach Road (Route 77) in Cape Elizabeth. The epitaph on her slate marker reads:
SACRED
to the memory of
MISS LYDIA CARTER
daut’r of Mr Amos Carter of Freeport
AE 21 who with 15 other unfortunate
passengers male and female perished
in the merciless waves by the shipwreck
of the schooner Charles Capt. Jacob Adams
bound from Boston to Portland
on a reef of rocks near the shore of
Richmond’s Island on Sunday night
July 12, 1807
to the memory of
MISS LYDIA CARTER
daut’r of Mr Amos Carter of Freeport
AE 21 who with 15 other unfortunate
passengers male and female perished
in the merciless waves by the shipwreck
of the schooner Charles Capt. Jacob Adams
bound from Boston to Portland
on a reef of rocks near the shore of
Richmond’s Island on Sunday night
July 12, 1807
For more than 200 years, those strolling Crescent Beach near sunset, after the incoming tide has washed the sandy shore clean, have reported seeing a set of small human footprints that seemingly begin out of nowhere and suddenly disappear as if the individual who made them simply vanished into thin air. And during the summer months, particularly around July 12, those who find themselves on the beach at night occasionally see in the distance what appears to be the insubstantial form of a young, dark-haired woman in a flowing white gown.
Others believe Lydia also haunts the Inn by the Sea itself and any time something unexplained happens, it’s assumed her restless spirit is on the prowl. “I’ve seen the elevator going up and down late at night with no one getting off,” Laura Gironda, training and recruiting manager, said during a 2005 interview. At other times – and it seems to happen much more often during the summer – members of staff report seeing strange spheres of light moving about inside vacant rooms. On one occasion, a mother heard her children talking to someone in the adjacent room, but when she entered, she saw no one, however, the children insisted a lady had been sitting on the bed and inexplicably, there was an indentation on the covers that looked like an adult had been sitting there. “When I worked the 3 to 11 p.m. shift,” Gironda continued, “I just felt someone here.” She even admitted saying hello to the ghost late at night when no one else is about. “It is nice property and I guess Lydia, who is not a fearful presence, feels the same way,” she concluded.
July Moonlight. According to volunteers at Fort Clinch State Park (above) in Fernandina Beach, Florida, a small detachment of phantom soldiers manifests every year on moonlit nights during the month of July. Ranger Robert Berringer enjoys telling visitors about the night two volunteers looking out onto the grounds, bathed in the light of a full moon, observed the apparitions of four soldiers in dark uniforms with shiny brass buttons exit a tunnel and hurry over an embankment. “The next year,” he continues, “the volunteers made sure they were there again during the July full moon. And sure enough, three ghosts came down the northwest bastion tunnel, crossed the parade ground and started up the ramp. One of the volunteers called out to the spooks: ‘There were four of you last year. Where’s the fourth man?’ And one of the figures called back: ‘He’s sick tonight. Couldn’t come!’” (For other ghost stories about Fort Clinch, see “Blithe Spirits and Other Phantoms of Fort Clinch.”)
England and Scotland
July 3: According to legend, in 1805, just before midnight on the 3rd day of July, a man who happened to be passing St. Paul’s Church on Queen Caroline Street in London’s Hammersmith district died of fright when he saw a towering figure with flames lapping from its eye sockets leave the porch of the church and enter a tomb. Fifty years later, in 1855, the same apparition was observed at the same time and thereafter, it was rumored the fearsome phantom materialized every 50 years.
In 1955, a reporter for the West London Observer claimed he had spoken with someone who witnessed the manifestation in 1905 and he [the reporter] intended to be waiting when the spook made its next appearance. When he got to St. Paul’s on the designated night, to his surprise, several hundred spectators had gathered in the area to see the wraith, but when midnight came and went and nothing happened, they quickly dispersed. Apparently, the dead aren’t as concerned about punctuality as are their living counterparts and it wasn’t until an hour later that the few who remained saw a bright white figure leisurely float from the porch of the church and disappear in the graveyard.
The tale was all but forgotten until 2005 when four individuals with an interest in the paranormal read about the 1955 incident and traveled from Suffolk to London, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fiery apparition. Unfortunately, a significant portion of St. Paul’s churchyard was lost when the Hammersmith Flyover (an elevated highway) and Great West Road were constructed in 1956-61, and other parts of the burial ground were turned into a green. Nonetheless, the thrill-seekers picked a spot with a view of the porch and between midnight and 1 a.m., claimed to have detected slight movement at one point, but there was no floating phantom nor signs of fire. Because the tombs and grave stones have been removed, there’s a possibility the spirit no longer recognized the location. The next haunting is set to take place July 3, 2055.
July 6: Until its doors closed for the last time in May 2020, Ashdown House (above), located in Forest Row, East Sussex, was one of the most prestigious preparatory schools in England. Founded in 1843, many notables, e.g., Prime Minister Boris Johnson and the 2nd Earl of Snowdon (son of Princess Margaret), spent their formative years at the renowned institution. Of course, like Hogwarts, no school is complete without a ghost and every July 6, what are rumored to be the phantom faltering footsteps of George Augustus Eliott, 1st Baron Heathfield, echo from Ashdown’s main staircase. While this is an intriguing story and the gentleman in question did pass to the great beyond of an apparent stroke on July 6, 1790, he died in Germany, and Ashdown House wasn’t built until 1794 – three years later. Accordingly, while it’s possible the spirit of someone who lived or worked in the house, or perhaps a former student, manifests every July 6, it’s safe to say Lord Heathfield isn’t the noisy spook in question.
July 6: Following the death of King Charles II, his illegitimate son, James Scott (aka James Croft), better known as the Duke of Monmouth, claimed the crown and mounted what is known as the Monmouth Rebellion (aka the Pitchfork Rebellion) against King James II. On July 6, 1685, the King’s soldiers and Pretender’s men confronted each other on the battlefield at Sedgemoor, Somerset, where it is believed around 1,300 rebels were killed or wounded and 2,700 others were captured, while the King lost no more than approximately 200 men. In successive years on the anniversary of the historic battle, people reported seeing what was presumed to be Monmouth’s ghost running from the location where he failed so miserably.
There also have been reports of the apparitions of what appear to be combat-weary figures at King’s Sedgemoor Drain (an artificial drainage channel diverting the River Cary), who shout, “Come on over!” Additionally, legend has it that at the cessation of battle, a group of soldiers decided to have some fun and told one of the captured rebels if he won a race against a horse, he would be spared. Naturally, he accepted the challenge and managed to come in ahead of the animal, but was dispatched nonetheless and such accounts for the phantom sounds of labored breathing and galloping hoof beats at the site. And if all this wasn’t enough, after the fellow’s death, his sweetheart committed suicide by wading into the Drain and she, too, haunts the area.
July 15: The Duke of Monmouth and a “friend,” Ford Grey, survived the Battle of Sedgemoor and escaped immediate capture, making it all the way to Hampshire, a distance of more than 70 miles. According to legend, on July 8, Scott, disguised as a peasant, was apprehended in a “field of peas” just off Slough Lane at Horton on the southern edge of Cranborne Chase near Wimborne, Dorset. Apparently, he was betrayed by a woman who told pursuing soldiers where to find him and as he was led away, Scott turned in the direction of the wench and yelled, “May you die a lousy death!” Tradition has it she, indeed, died a lousy death and a nearby pathway came to be known as “Louse Lane,” a name that was eventually corrupted to Slough Lane, the name by which it is known to this day.
Grey also was captured and sang like the proverbial canary, testifying against Monmouth and others involved in the rebellion in exchange for his life. Unlike Grey, the Duke accepted his fate with dignity and on July 15, 1685, was escorted from his cell to Tower Hill, where Jack Ketch, the official headsman, waited. Ketch must have had friends in high places, for his skill as an executioner left a lot to be desired. Because his incompetence was known far and wide, as Monmouth approached the axeman, he dropped a few coins into the man’s hand, saying, “Here are six guineas for you and do not hack me as you did my Lord Russell (executed in 1683). I have heard you struck him four or five times; if you strike me twice, I cannot promise you not to stir.”
Although the Duke subsequently knelt, placed his head on the block and lay perfectly still, Ketch nonetheless managed to botch the job and according to witnesses, in spite of five to eight swings of the axe, Monmouth’s head remained attached to his twitching body. Even members of the bloodthirsty crowd that had gathered to witness the spectacle were shocked by the convulsing corpse jerking about gushing blood while the head remained partially affixed to the shoulders. Mercifully, the sheriff finally ordered that a sharp knife be fetched to complete the removal of Scott’s head. The Pretender’s badly mangled corpse was buried beneath the communion table at St. Peter’s Church in the Tower of London.
It’s understandable why Monmouth’s spirit wouldn’t wish to hang around the location of his gruesome execution, but his headless ghost, with his severed head tucked beneath his arm, is said to appear in the wooded area where he was arrested just off Slough Lane.
July 27: The bloody Battle of Killiecrankie, aka the Battle of Rinrory, took place three miles north of Pitlochry, Perthshire, on July 27, 1689, during the Scottish Jacobite rising. On that day, Jacobite forces led by John Graham, Viscount Dundee, defeated the government army under the command of Hugh Mackay, and by the time the fighting ended, the ground was stained dark red by the blood of hundreds of dead and wounded men. Today, the impressive wooded gorge is a beauty spot, but it is said that every year on the anniversary of the battle, the specters of soldiers in the uniforms of another era materialize at the location where they fell. In addition to the fighting ghosts, the area also is haunted by the floating head of a woman murdered at the site during the 17th century. A third spook, described as a tall white specter, grabs at those passing along the road after dark and anyone touched by this wraith dies within the year.
July 28: It was close to dusk Saturday, July 28, 1900, when Mabel and Freda (short for Winifred) Bull, daughters of the late Rev. Henry Bull, returned to Borley Rectory, the dark, rambling, Victorian dwelling where they lived with their brother and other family members. As they wandered through the grounds telling their sister Ethel about the garden party they had attended, all three observed what Ethel would later describe as a female figure in a “flowing black robe such as nuns wear” walking near the stone wall to the southeast of the house. Because there was something clasped in the lady’s hands and she was believed to be the spirit of a nun, the witnesses assumed she was praying the rosary. (The Bull daughters were all in their 30s at the time of this sighting.) Although paranormal investigator Harry Price added quite a bit to the incident, claiming the figure “was slowly gliding, rather than walking,” the account Ethel Bull gave to a BBC reporter was as follows:
“I was walking round the garden with two of my sisters and they’d been to a garden party and telling me an amusing story that had happened. And then they wondered I didn’t take any notice and they looked down at me and I said, ‘Look, there’s a nun walking there.’ And I was terrified and so were they when they saw her – and it sent cold shivers down our backs and we simply flew up to the house. And then we saw my eldest sister (Elizabeth) who was staying with us and she said, ‘Oh, I’m not going to be frightened,’ so she came down and when she saw the nun, she made to go across the potato bed to meet the nun, and the nun turned and came as it were to meet her, and she was seized with panic and simply flew up to the house.”
This was by no means the first sighting of the Borley nun. The Rev. Bull, who supervised the construction of the rectory and took up residence therein in 1863, reportedly saw the apparition on several occasions. His son, the Rev. Harry Foyster Bull, who became rector upon his father’s death in 1892, also was haunted by the nun and a few months prior to the July 28, 1900, sighting, claimed the wraith followed him from the church to the entrance of the rectory. Additionally, in November 1900, Ethel again saw the specter.
To this day, on July 28, ghost hunters and others interested in the supernatural visit Borley in hopes of catching a glimpse of the phantom nun.
Until it burned in 1939, Borley Rectory was known far and wide as the most haunted house in England and the paranormal activity didn’t end with the fire. Today, both the grounds where the spooky old building once stood and Borley Church and Churchyard are still said to be haunted, not only by the nun, but by phantom music and other unexplained phenomena. (For additional stories about Borley Rectory, see “Mysteries and Legends of Essex Churches and Churchyards.”)
Month of July: Founded in 1123, the Priory Church of St. Bartholomew the Great is London’s oldest parish church. Rahere, the monk who built the church, was a jester in the Court of Henry I, but while on a pilgrimage to Rome, he had a dream in which a winged beast transported him to a high place where he was instructed to erect a church in the suburb of Smithfield. Unfortunately, when Rahere returned to London, he learned the land, then occupied by a small graveyard, was the property of the crown. Undaunted, the monk advised the king of his divine message and the monarch transferred title of the site so the house of God could be established.
Twenty years later, in 1143, Rahere died and his remains lie within an elaborate tomb to the left of the altar of the church he built. The effigy atop the medieval tomb depicts the holy man in a black Augustinian habit with the hood thrown back and his head resting upon a cushion.
The church’s founder had lain undisturbed for almost 400 years when it became apparent his tomb and surroundings were in urgent need of repair and restoration and such was carried out in the 16th century. It was another 300-plus years before another hasty repair job was required in the 19th century, at which time authorities could not resist checking on the state of Rahere’s remains. According to reports, the body was well-preserved and even his clothing and leather sandals were intact. Two days later, one of the men present during the opening of the sepulcher became deathly ill, and fearing divine retribution, confessed that while examining the remains, he had snatched a sandal. Although he returned the item to the church, it was never replaced on Rahere’s foot and ever since, St. Bart’s has been haunted by the shadowy, cowled specter of the monk, apparently upset that his bones were disturbed.
One warm July day in the early 20th century, the Rev. W.F.G. Sandwich reported seeing a monk in the pulpit silently delivering what appeared to be an animated sermon. The minister was showing a pair of ladies around the church at the time and directed their attention to the front of the building, remarking, “I don’t think that pulpit is worthy of the church, do you?” Neither gave any indication she saw anything out of the ordinary and Sandwich was unnerved by the incident for some time thereafter.
Through the years there have been numerous reports of supernatural encounters within the ancient house of worship. Perhaps the dark, medieval interior has absorbed so much joy and sorrow through the years it somehow inspires the more imaginative to see things that aren’t there. But this doesn’t explain why sightings of the ghostly monk are reported almost exclusively during the month of July.
Sources: The Enigma of Borley Rectory by Ivan Banks; Book of Ghosts by Sabine Baring-Gould; Britain's Haunted Heritage by J.A. Brooks; British History Online; BBC News, June 2, 2020 The Good Ghost Guide by John Brooks; Dictionary of the Peerage and Baronetage of the British Empire by Sir Bernard Burke; Ellen Castelow, "The Battle of Killiecrankie," Historic UK; Andrew Clarke, "The Nun and the Travelling Scissorman," 2003; Joe Guglielmetti, "Around Richmond Island," March 16, 2015; The Enemy at the Gate by Reginald Hergreaves; Josh Harriman, "Ghosts Never Give Up Their Cape Haunts," The Portland Press-Herald, October 25, 2005; Ashdown House, House Histree; Charles Lagerbom, "Lydia Carver: Ghost Bride of Richmond Island," The Belfast Republican Journal, October 21, 2021; Discovering Ghosts by Leon Metcalfe; The Most Haunted House in England by Harry Price; Sean O'Neill, The Times, July 11, 2014; London Lore: The Legends and Traditions of the World's Most Vibrant City by Steve Roud; Strange Maine; The Ghosts of Borley: Annals of the Haunted Rectory by Paul Tabori and Peter Underwood; Rulewater and its People: An Account of the Valley of the Rule and its Inhabitants by George Tancred; Coastal Ghosts and Lighthouse Lore by William O. Thompson; Somerset Folklore by Ruth L. Tongue; Borley Postscript by Peter Underwood; Ghosts of Devon by Peter Underwood; Find-a-Grave; The Eastern Argus, July 1807; Parks & Gardens; PCA Consulting Engineers; The Portland Gazette, July 1807; Sprague's Journal of Maine History, Volume 4; June 1916; South Portland Historical Society; Strange Maine, March 9, 2006; Tess of the Vale; "Monmouth's Ash," Verwood UK; "Blithe Spirits and Other Phantoms of Fort Clinch," WhatLiesBeyond; "The Ghoulish Ghosts of Greyfriars," WhatLiesBeyond; "Lydia Carver: Ghost Bride of Cape Elizabeth," WhatLiesBeyond; English Monarchs; and "James Scott, 1st Duke of Monmouth and Buccleuch," The Wrong Side of the Blanket.
