Ghosts and Legends

The Mystery of a Pelham Farm House

Below is an excerpt from the following book: Pryer, Charles, Reminiscences of an Old Westchester Homestead (G.P. Putnam's Sons NY and London, The Knickerbocker Press 1897) (pp. 6-12).

THE MYSTERY OF A PELHAM FARM-HOUSE

ABOUT a mile above Pelham Bridge, and directly on the road leading to it, is situated a small farm-house of apparently great antiquity ; at all events, it was not built within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. The interior is fitted up after the good old Dutch style of the close of the seventeenth century. The hearth and chimney-jambs in the parlor are in tiles, illumined with many a scriptural illustration, in the manner so much in vogue among our worthy Dutch ancestors. The house seems to have been the resort of disembodied spirits for a very long time, but why they frequented it I have always wondered, as I have never heard that

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any murder or other dark deed was perpetrated in the vicinity. Whether the sights and noises were caused by the spirits of "Anhook" and his Indian followers returning to visit their former hunting-grounds, or whether it was the soul of Anne Hutchinson on a visit from the spirit-land to bewail her murdered family, is a mystery that will probably never be solved at this late date.

These conjectures, however, have no foundation in fact, or even in tradition, for, as the dwelling of this noted woman was burned by the Indians at the time of the murder, this house could not have been hers. It may be, however, that the farm-house stood near where once smoked the embers of her desolated cabin, and not caring to bewail her loss without some roof over her head, she sought the nearest shelter for her ghostly person under this habitation, and by her spectral pranks terrified all the old women in the neighborhood. Be this as it may, it is certain

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that it was impossible to get a tenant for the house from the residents of the town, and even those who came from a distance were never wont to stay under its roof for more than one or two nights when they would leave, filling the neighborhood with tales of the strange sights and sounds that they saw and heard during their short stay in the haunted cottage. Many are the frightful stories told by the teamsters that passed there on their way to town, late at night or before daylight in the morning. Some said that lights flickered from room to room, and that the whole house shook as though convulsed by an earthquake; others that the house was illuminated as though the owner was giving an entertainment, and that they plainly heard the sound of voices and the rattle of crockery, as though the spirits were having a supper. Others again stated that only one room was lighted up, and at the window of this apartment sat a beautiful lady, with her head resting on her

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hands and her long dark hair streaming over her shoulders, while her whole attitude indicated dejection. The only thing, however, that these teamsters agreed upon was that they all saw something strange and mysterious. It is therefore not to be wondered at that a place with such a reputation should be vacant during a great portion of the year, although the owner tried every means to keep it occupied.

It was early one March that a gardener from the city was prevailed upon to take up his abode in the cottage with his wife and family. Being strangers in the place, none of them had heard of its reputation, and consequently could not have been frightened beforehand. The spring that year was very late, and at the time the family took up their abode in the house the snow still lay thickly on the ground.

The first night passed off quietly, as all were too tired from moving to lie awake much. There were some strange

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noises heard in the early part of the evening, but as they were attributed to rats nobody paid much attention to them. In the morning the gardener went to his work, and as the scene of his labors was some distance from the house, he took his dinner with him and did not return till evening.

On arriving home about sunset he was met at the door by his wife, who proceeded to tell him, in a frightened incoherent way, how, about noon, all the doors were suddenly thrown open, and fearful noises were heard to resound through all quarters of the house. Thinking this, however, to be only a woman's version of the freaks of a March wind in his too well-ventilated apartments, he only smiled incredulously and drew a chair to the fire to await supper, the preparations for which were already far advanced. Scarcely had the blazing hickory fire commenced to make him comfortable, when he was startled by hearing a terrific crash in one of the unoccupied

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rooms upstairs, followed by the violent slamming of every door in the house. Thinking some fearful storm must suddenly have come up, he stepped to the door and looked out, but the evening was serene and beautiful. The boisterous wind that had been blowing all day, had gone down with the sun, and the stars shone brightly in the frosty air. Shutting the door he resumed his seat by the fire, not daring to go up stairs to see from whence the noise proceeded, but thoroughly resolved to give the spirits full possession of the house on the following day.

While thus thinking, the wall of the room opposite to him slowly opened, and a shadowy something seemed to fill the aperture. This vapory mass gradually took the form of a female figure, at first ill-defined, but slowly assuming the proper proportions, and at length stood out in bold relief, as perfect as any living being. It appeared to be a beautiful lady of not more than

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twenty, with long black hair streaming over her shoulders, but with an air so melancholy and dejected that even the terrified man pitied her. After surveying for a few moments the mortal seated by the fire, she glided slowly across the room and passed through the opposite wall, without giving utterance to a single sound. Our friend was not troubled more that night by his spiritual visitors, but so terrified was he that the next day he took his departure. Although this happened some fifty years ago, the house has been empty ever since, and even to this day the benighted traveller will hasten his steps while passing the desolate cottage.

By this time the pipe of mine host was out and our glasses needed replenishing; so we resolved to have an intermission, to draw another jug of cider and allow the hunter to fill his pipe before continuing his tales.