Showing posts with label ghost photos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghost photos. Show all posts
Friday, August 10, 2007
Fear of Ghosts
REALLY FUNNY BUT SCARY GHOST HUNT IN CELLAR
Enhanced Scary ghost footage intro.
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Sunday, August 5, 2007
Ghosts Of The Civil War and Videos
Many incidents occurred that result in ghostly manifestations to this day. The bloodiest battle ever fought on American soil occurred during the Civil war.
Incident 1:
On a balmy afternoon in June of 1863, Federal General John Buford peered through his binoculars across a field just west of the town of Gettysburg. He was perplexed as he gazed at a column of Confederate soldiers marching along Chambersburg Pike. He knew this body of men was too large for a raiding party - they were an advance element of Confederate General Heath's division. This resulted in the pivotal battle of the American Civil War.
Three days later, fifty three thousand men would soak the fields red with the blood of the dead and dying. That would help explain why the abundance of ghost sightings are reported time and again from visitors who frequent the town and battlefield year after year.
It is as well with little wonder that Gettysburg has obtained the reputation of being the most haunted place in America. Even the skeptics who refuse to believe even in the possibility of ghosts, won't refute the possibility of this haunted locale.
On July 1, 1863, what began as a skirmish soon escalated into a heated battle with the arrival of Federal General John Reynolds' infantry. The Confederates pressed, and soon found the Union troops retreating chaotically towards the little town. The streets were thick with soldiers as the Federals retreated toward a designated rallying point just beyond town at Cemetery Hill and Culps Hill.
Paranormal? Ghosts, Ghost Towns, Gettysburg\
Confederate sharpshooters took up positions through out as their prey was easy and plentiful. Some took position in the Farnsworth House, a small home situated along Baltimore Pike. Their perch was magnificent due to the locale on the main road through town. They mercilessly fired upon retreating soldiers, often hitting their mark. The streets were strewn with dead.
Today, the Farnsworth House functions as a Bed aand Breakfast. Bullet holes can still be seen on the southside wall. It is here that many guests report seeing an apparition at the end of the bed during the night, while other guests have reported doors opening and closing through their own volition. One woman incredulously has reported her infant being lifted by unseen hands and gently placed back down.
The Devils Den is a large patch of rocks where many Confederate sharpshooters took refuge in order to exact their death toll upon Union officers atop the hills of Little and Big Round Tops.
In 1970, a tourist approached a park ranger and inquired about stories of Gettysburg being haunted. The Park Service cannot answer such questions but the ranger asked why? The woman stated as she was taking photographs of the Devils Den, a man suddenly appeared beside her and said, 'What you're looking for is over there.'
Pointing northeast toward the Plum Run, she turned to look and the man vanished. The ranger asked for a description, and she felt he looked ragged and like that of a hippie. Barefooted with torn butternut shirt and trousers, wearing a big floppy hat. This was often the attire of Confederate Texans.
A few weeks later, the same ranger was approached by yet another visitor with the same question. The man said he was taking pictures and a man mentioned to look elsewhere and disappeared. His description was identical to the woman's.
The Little Round Top is an unimpressive hill overlooking the Devils Den and the wheat field. As the extreme left flank of the Federal lines, it has had its share of carnage.
During the filming of the movie Gettysburg, many reenactors would find themselves with some down time. Although the movie was not filmed on the battlefield, it was not uncommon for these extras to walk upon the battlefield in their period uniforms.
One small group of men found themselves atop the Round Top, admiring the view as the sun began to set. A rustling of the leaves behind them alerted them to the presence of a stranger. From the brush emerged a rather haggard looking old man, dressed as a Union private. The man was filthy and smelled of sulfur, a key ingredient of the black powder used in 1863.
He walked up to the men and as he handed them a few musket rounds, he said 'Rough one today, eh boys?' He turned and walked away. As the reenactors looked upon the musket rounds, they looked up to see the man had vanished. When they brought the rounds into town, they were authenticated as original rounds 130 years old!
Many visitors have reported the smell of gunpowder, and have heard gunshots and screams from the Little Round Top over the years.
Friday, July 3, 1863 was a new day already polluted with the stench of death and war. For two days, 175,000 men have engaged in the bloodiest battle before or since on the American continent. The morning was somewhat uneventful, with the exception of some fighting at Culps Hill; which had ended by late morning.
At 1:00 p.m., 140 Confederate cannon opened fire on the Union center. For two hours, the largest cannonade ever witnessed pounded the Federal lines. So fierce was the shelling, that one could not see across the mile of open field to ascertain whether or not their targets have been hit. So loud was the shelling that the attack was heard in Washington DC; some 80 miles away. This was the preamble for one of the most infamous military events. This was the preamble for what was to become known as Pickett's Charge.
After the second hour of the cannonade was up, some 12,000 Confederate infantrymen emerged from the woods. Formed in battle line, they began the deadly march across the mile of open field. How the Union soldiers must have gazed wide eyed as 12,000 fixed bayonets glistened in the summer sun, all preparing to converge on a single stretch of stone wall known as The Angle.
Long range cannon fire sent explosive shells into the rebel ranks. As they neared, the artillerymen changed to canister shot; a typed of buckshot fired from a cannon. Closer still the rebels marched; closing holes in the line left by soldiers killed en masse.
A deafening musketry opened from the Yankee lines behind cover of the stone wall. Still, the Confederates came. As the survivors reached the stone wall, brutal hand to hand combat ensued, but alas, the rebels, tired and outnumbered quickly lost momentum. The entire charge lasted less than an hour.
In that time, 10,000 Confederates lay dead and dying. With the failure of the charge, the battle ended. Robert E. Lee retreated back into Virginia. Thus ended Lee's second invasion of the north. Thus ended the Confederacy's hope for independence. Although the war would continue for two more years, the Army of Northern Virginia would never fully recover from this loss.
The Angle is a beautifully maintained area of landscape. One can still look out across the field from where Pickett's Charge originated. A park ranger while on routine patrol one night noticed a man on horseback. As the rider neared, the ranger wondered who would be on the battlefield so late; on horseback. Upon closer inspection, the ranger noticed the attire of the rider. It was that of a Civil War officer although the allegiance could not be ascertained.
The unknown horseman approached to within 10 feet of the car and promptly disappeared. Other visitors have reported the sound of galloping horses in the immediate area of The Angle, although none were present. Sounds of the cannonade have permeated through time as people report hearing the thunderous roar of battle.
One visitor even reported seeing Robert E. Lee himself, sitting atop his horse, Traveler, on the opposite side of the field. A resident of Gettysburg, and amateur ghost hunter mentions that during a stroll across the field on a warm summer night, cold spots were common. Going from balmy humidity to sudden cold, so cold he could see his breath, the fellow continued the path of Pickett's infantrymen.
I have met other psychics who have been to these grounds and reported the pain and anguish from the energies of the soldiers who died in that battle.
Incident 2:
Two of the most bloody battles fought were Chickamauga and Stones River, both in Tennessee. Nearly 125,000 men fought at Chickamauga from the morning of September 19th to the 20th of 1863. When it was all over, the combined casualties numbered 37,129. They compare with 23,582 at Sharpsburg (Antietam) known as the "bloodiest day of American history" and 43,454 for the three days of fighting with larger armies at Gettysburg.
Chickamauga is derived from an ancient Cherokee word meaning "River of Death". And death was all around this heavily wooded area occasionally spotted with uncultivated, vine-strewn, thicket- matted stretches of ground sometimes disturbed by outcroppings of limestone rock. In other words, land that no farmer would have bothered with since it would have required a massive amount of work and toil to bring up to minimal farming standards. The real prize that the Union army hoped to gain from this battle was capture of Chattanooga which was the rail center and major city of the Middle South. It was the greatest Southern victory of the entire war.
There are several legends about ghosts associated with these battles -
Perhaps the most bizarre story concerns "Old Green Eyes". Who or what is Old Green Eyes?
Old Green Eyes was a soldier who died in the war. There are two legends concerning his death.
One is that a Confederate soldier's head was severed from his body which was blown to bits by a cannon ball. All that was left to bury was his head and, according to legend, on misty nights he roams the battlefield, moaning mournfully, searching for his body.
Another legend is quoted as saying that Old Green Eyes roamed the area long before the Civil War and was even seen moving among the dead at Snodgrass Hill during a lull in the fighting. Probably the most stubborn phase of the campaign was at Snodgrass Hill which is some of the roughest and hilliest terrain in the entire park area.
Many people visiting the park near dusk have seen two big glowing eyes approaching them and have heard an agonizing groaning sound which sent shivers up and down their spine.
Charlie Fisher, a forest ranger, says that in the early 1970's two different people both wrecked their automobiles against the same tree. They both sworn to have seen Old Green Eyes.
A man named Ed Tinney did see Old Green Eyes on several occasions. He saw the ghost one foggy night while walking along one of the trails which wind through the park. He said the shape was human-like but wasn't human. When he first saw it, it was less than twenty feet away and passed right by him! He described the hair on the "thing" as long, like a woman's hair, with eyes almost greenish-orange in color. It's teeth were long and pointed like fangs and was wearing a cape which seemed to be flapping in the wind, even though there was no wind! The next thing he knew, it just disappeared right in front of him.
Ghost-Gettysburg Ghost
Incident 1:
On a balmy afternoon in June of 1863, Federal General John Buford peered through his binoculars across a field just west of the town of Gettysburg. He was perplexed as he gazed at a column of Confederate soldiers marching along Chambersburg Pike. He knew this body of men was too large for a raiding party - they were an advance element of Confederate General Heath's division. This resulted in the pivotal battle of the American Civil War.
Three days later, fifty three thousand men would soak the fields red with the blood of the dead and dying. That would help explain why the abundance of ghost sightings are reported time and again from visitors who frequent the town and battlefield year after year.
It is as well with little wonder that Gettysburg has obtained the reputation of being the most haunted place in America. Even the skeptics who refuse to believe even in the possibility of ghosts, won't refute the possibility of this haunted locale.
On July 1, 1863, what began as a skirmish soon escalated into a heated battle with the arrival of Federal General John Reynolds' infantry. The Confederates pressed, and soon found the Union troops retreating chaotically towards the little town. The streets were thick with soldiers as the Federals retreated toward a designated rallying point just beyond town at Cemetery Hill and Culps Hill.
Paranormal? Ghosts, Ghost Towns, Gettysburg\
Confederate sharpshooters took up positions through out as their prey was easy and plentiful. Some took position in the Farnsworth House, a small home situated along Baltimore Pike. Their perch was magnificent due to the locale on the main road through town. They mercilessly fired upon retreating soldiers, often hitting their mark. The streets were strewn with dead.
Today, the Farnsworth House functions as a Bed aand Breakfast. Bullet holes can still be seen on the southside wall. It is here that many guests report seeing an apparition at the end of the bed during the night, while other guests have reported doors opening and closing through their own volition. One woman incredulously has reported her infant being lifted by unseen hands and gently placed back down.
The Devils Den is a large patch of rocks where many Confederate sharpshooters took refuge in order to exact their death toll upon Union officers atop the hills of Little and Big Round Tops.
In 1970, a tourist approached a park ranger and inquired about stories of Gettysburg being haunted. The Park Service cannot answer such questions but the ranger asked why? The woman stated as she was taking photographs of the Devils Den, a man suddenly appeared beside her and said, 'What you're looking for is over there.'
Pointing northeast toward the Plum Run, she turned to look and the man vanished. The ranger asked for a description, and she felt he looked ragged and like that of a hippie. Barefooted with torn butternut shirt and trousers, wearing a big floppy hat. This was often the attire of Confederate Texans.
A few weeks later, the same ranger was approached by yet another visitor with the same question. The man said he was taking pictures and a man mentioned to look elsewhere and disappeared. His description was identical to the woman's.
The Little Round Top is an unimpressive hill overlooking the Devils Den and the wheat field. As the extreme left flank of the Federal lines, it has had its share of carnage.
During the filming of the movie Gettysburg, many reenactors would find themselves with some down time. Although the movie was not filmed on the battlefield, it was not uncommon for these extras to walk upon the battlefield in their period uniforms.
One small group of men found themselves atop the Round Top, admiring the view as the sun began to set. A rustling of the leaves behind them alerted them to the presence of a stranger. From the brush emerged a rather haggard looking old man, dressed as a Union private. The man was filthy and smelled of sulfur, a key ingredient of the black powder used in 1863.
He walked up to the men and as he handed them a few musket rounds, he said 'Rough one today, eh boys?' He turned and walked away. As the reenactors looked upon the musket rounds, they looked up to see the man had vanished. When they brought the rounds into town, they were authenticated as original rounds 130 years old!
Many visitors have reported the smell of gunpowder, and have heard gunshots and screams from the Little Round Top over the years.
Friday, July 3, 1863 was a new day already polluted with the stench of death and war. For two days, 175,000 men have engaged in the bloodiest battle before or since on the American continent. The morning was somewhat uneventful, with the exception of some fighting at Culps Hill; which had ended by late morning.
At 1:00 p.m., 140 Confederate cannon opened fire on the Union center. For two hours, the largest cannonade ever witnessed pounded the Federal lines. So fierce was the shelling, that one could not see across the mile of open field to ascertain whether or not their targets have been hit. So loud was the shelling that the attack was heard in Washington DC; some 80 miles away. This was the preamble for one of the most infamous military events. This was the preamble for what was to become known as Pickett's Charge.
After the second hour of the cannonade was up, some 12,000 Confederate infantrymen emerged from the woods. Formed in battle line, they began the deadly march across the mile of open field. How the Union soldiers must have gazed wide eyed as 12,000 fixed bayonets glistened in the summer sun, all preparing to converge on a single stretch of stone wall known as The Angle.
Long range cannon fire sent explosive shells into the rebel ranks. As they neared, the artillerymen changed to canister shot; a typed of buckshot fired from a cannon. Closer still the rebels marched; closing holes in the line left by soldiers killed en masse.
A deafening musketry opened from the Yankee lines behind cover of the stone wall. Still, the Confederates came. As the survivors reached the stone wall, brutal hand to hand combat ensued, but alas, the rebels, tired and outnumbered quickly lost momentum. The entire charge lasted less than an hour.
In that time, 10,000 Confederates lay dead and dying. With the failure of the charge, the battle ended. Robert E. Lee retreated back into Virginia. Thus ended Lee's second invasion of the north. Thus ended the Confederacy's hope for independence. Although the war would continue for two more years, the Army of Northern Virginia would never fully recover from this loss.
The Angle is a beautifully maintained area of landscape. One can still look out across the field from where Pickett's Charge originated. A park ranger while on routine patrol one night noticed a man on horseback. As the rider neared, the ranger wondered who would be on the battlefield so late; on horseback. Upon closer inspection, the ranger noticed the attire of the rider. It was that of a Civil War officer although the allegiance could not be ascertained.
The unknown horseman approached to within 10 feet of the car and promptly disappeared. Other visitors have reported the sound of galloping horses in the immediate area of The Angle, although none were present. Sounds of the cannonade have permeated through time as people report hearing the thunderous roar of battle.
One visitor even reported seeing Robert E. Lee himself, sitting atop his horse, Traveler, on the opposite side of the field. A resident of Gettysburg, and amateur ghost hunter mentions that during a stroll across the field on a warm summer night, cold spots were common. Going from balmy humidity to sudden cold, so cold he could see his breath, the fellow continued the path of Pickett's infantrymen.
I have met other psychics who have been to these grounds and reported the pain and anguish from the energies of the soldiers who died in that battle.
Incident 2:
Two of the most bloody battles fought were Chickamauga and Stones River, both in Tennessee. Nearly 125,000 men fought at Chickamauga from the morning of September 19th to the 20th of 1863. When it was all over, the combined casualties numbered 37,129. They compare with 23,582 at Sharpsburg (Antietam) known as the "bloodiest day of American history" and 43,454 for the three days of fighting with larger armies at Gettysburg.
Chickamauga is derived from an ancient Cherokee word meaning "River of Death". And death was all around this heavily wooded area occasionally spotted with uncultivated, vine-strewn, thicket- matted stretches of ground sometimes disturbed by outcroppings of limestone rock. In other words, land that no farmer would have bothered with since it would have required a massive amount of work and toil to bring up to minimal farming standards. The real prize that the Union army hoped to gain from this battle was capture of Chattanooga which was the rail center and major city of the Middle South. It was the greatest Southern victory of the entire war.
There are several legends about ghosts associated with these battles -
Perhaps the most bizarre story concerns "Old Green Eyes". Who or what is Old Green Eyes?
Old Green Eyes was a soldier who died in the war. There are two legends concerning his death.
One is that a Confederate soldier's head was severed from his body which was blown to bits by a cannon ball. All that was left to bury was his head and, according to legend, on misty nights he roams the battlefield, moaning mournfully, searching for his body.
Another legend is quoted as saying that Old Green Eyes roamed the area long before the Civil War and was even seen moving among the dead at Snodgrass Hill during a lull in the fighting. Probably the most stubborn phase of the campaign was at Snodgrass Hill which is some of the roughest and hilliest terrain in the entire park area.
Many people visiting the park near dusk have seen two big glowing eyes approaching them and have heard an agonizing groaning sound which sent shivers up and down their spine.
Charlie Fisher, a forest ranger, says that in the early 1970's two different people both wrecked their automobiles against the same tree. They both sworn to have seen Old Green Eyes.
A man named Ed Tinney did see Old Green Eyes on several occasions. He saw the ghost one foggy night while walking along one of the trails which wind through the park. He said the shape was human-like but wasn't human. When he first saw it, it was less than twenty feet away and passed right by him! He described the hair on the "thing" as long, like a woman's hair, with eyes almost greenish-orange in color. It's teeth were long and pointed like fangs and was wearing a cape which seemed to be flapping in the wind, even though there was no wind! The next thing he knew, it just disappeared right in front of him.
Ghost-Gettysburg Ghost
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Monday, April 23, 2007
A Ghost ,A Great Ghost Story and Ghost Videos
We were speaking of sequestration, alluding to a recent lawsuit. It was at the close of a friendly evening in a very old mansion in the Rue de Grenelle, and each of the guests had a story to tell, which he assured us was true.
Then the old Marquis de la Tour-Samuel, eighty-two years of age, rose and came forward to lean on the mantelpiece. He told the following story in his slightly quavering voice.
"I, also, have witnessed a strange thing—so strange that it has been the nightmare of my life. It happened fifty-six years ago, and yet there is not a month when I do not see it again in my dreams. From that day I have borne a mark, a stamp of fear,—do you understand?
"Yes, for ten minutes I was a prey to terror, in such a way that ever since a constant dread has remained in my soul. Unexpected sounds chill me to the heart; objects which I can ill distinguish in the evening shadows make me long to flee. I am afraid at night.
"No! I would not have owned such a thing before reaching my present age. But now I may tell everything. One may fear imaginary dangers at eighty-two years old. But before actual danger I have never turned back, mesdames.
"That affair so upset my mind, filled me with such a deep, mysterious unrest that I never could tell it. I kept it in that inmost part, that corner where we conceal our sad, our shameful secrets, all the weaknesses of our life which cannot be confessed.
"I will tell you that strange happening just as it took place, with no attempt to explain it. Unless I went mad for one short hour it must be explainable, though. Yet I was not mad, and I will prove it to you. Imagine what you will. Here are the simple facts:
"It was in 1827, in July. I was quartered with my regiment in Rouen.
"One day, as I was strolling on the quay, I came across a man I believed I recognized, though I could not place him with certainty. I instinctively went more slowly, ready to pause. The stranger saw my impulse, looked at me, and fell into my arms.
"It was a friend of my younger days, of whom I had been very fond. He seemed to have become half a century older in the five years since I had seen him. His hair was white, and he stooped in his walk, as if he were exhausted. He understood my amazement and told me the story of his life.
"A terrible event had broken him down. He had fallen madly in love with a young girl and married her in a kind of dreamlike ecstasy. After a year of unalloyed bliss and unexhausted passion, she had died suddenly of heart disease, no doubt killed by love itself.
"He had left the country on the very day of her funeral, and had come to live in his hotel at Rouen. He remained there, solitary and desperate, grief slowly mining him, so wretched that he constantly thought of suicide.
"'As I thus came across you again,' he said, 'I shall ask a great favor of you. I want you to go to my château and get some papers I urgently need. They are in the writing-desk of my room, of our room. I cannot send a servant or a lawyer, as the errand must be kept private. I want absolute silence.
"'I shall give you the key of the room, which I locked carefully myself before leaving, and the key to the writing-desk. I shall also give you a note for the gardener, who will let you in.
"'Come to breakfast with me to-morrow, and we'll talk the matter over.'
"I promised to render him that slight service. It would mean but a pleasant excursion for me, his home not being more than twenty-five miles from Rouen. I could go there in an hour on horseback.
"At ten o'clock the next day I was with him. We breakfasted alone together, yet he did not utter more than twenty words. He asked me to excuse him. The thought that I was going to visit the room where his happiness lay shattered, upset him, he said. Indeed, he seemed perturbed, worried, as if some mysterious struggle were taking place in his soul.
"At last he explained exactly what I was to do. It was very simple. I was to take two packages of letters and some papers, locked in the first drawer at the right of the desk of which I had the key. He added:
"'I need not ask you not to glance at them.'
"I was almost hurt by his words, and told him so, rather sharply. He stammered:
"'Forgive me. I suffer so much!'
"And tears came to his eyes.
"I left about one o'clock to accomplish my errand.
"The day was radiant, and I rushed through the meadows, listening to the song of the larks, and the rhythmical beat of my sword on my riding-boots.
"Then I entered the forest, and I set my horse to walking. Branches of the trees softly caressed my face, and now and then I would catch a leaf between my teeth and bite it with avidity, full of the joy of life, such as fills you without reason, with a tumultuous happiness almost indefinable, a kind of magical strength.
"As I neared the house I took out the letter for the gardener, and noted with surprise that it was sealed. I was so amazed and so annoyed that I almost turned back without fulfilling my mission. Then I thought that I should thus display over-sensitiveness and bad taste. My friend might have sealed it unconsciously, worried as he was.
"The manor looked as though it had been deserted the last twenty years. The gate, wide-open and rotten, held, one wondered how. Grass filled the paths; you could not tell the flower-beds from the lawn.
"At the noise I made kicking a shutter, an old man came out from a side-door and was apparently amazed to see me there. I dismounted from my horse and gave him the letter. He read it once or twice, turned it over, looked at me with suspicion, and asked:
"'Well, what do you want?'
"I answered sharply:
"'You must know it as you have read your master's orders. I want to get in the house.'
"He appeared overwhelmed. He said:
"'So—you are going in—in his room?'
"I was getting impatient.
"'Parbleu! Do you intend to question me, by chance?'
"He stammered:
"'No—monsieur—only—it has not been opened since—since the death. If you will wait five minutes, I will go in to see whether——'
"I interrupted angrily:
"'See here, are you joking? You can't go in that room, as I have the key!'
"He no longer knew what to say.
"'Then, monsieur, I will show you the way.'
"'Show me the stairs and leave me alone. I can find it without your help.'
"'But—still—monsieur——'
"Then I lost my temper.
"'Now be quiet! Else you'll be sorry!'
"I roughly pushed him aside and went into the house.
"I first went through the kitchen, then crossed two small rooms occupied by the man and his wife. From there I stepped into a large hall. I went up the stairs, and I recognized the door my friend had described to me.
"I opened it with ease and went in.
"The room was so dark that at first I could not distinguish anything. I paused, arrested by that moldy and stale odor peculiar to deserted and condemned rooms, of dead rooms. Then gradually my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and I saw rather clearly a great room in disorder, a bed without sheets having still its mattresses and pillows, one of which bore the deep print of an elbow or a head, as if someone had just been resting on it.
"The chairs seemed all in confusion. I noticed that a door, probably that of a closet, had remained ajar.
"I first went to the window and opened it to get some light, but the hinges of the outside shutters were so rusted that I could not loosen them.
"I even tried to break them with my sword, but did not succeed. As those fruitless attempts irritated me, and as my eyes were by now adjusted to the dim light, I gave up hope of getting more light and went toward the writing-desk.
"I sat down in an arm-chair, folded back the top, and opened the drawer. It was full to the edge. I needed but three packages, which I knew how to distinguish, and I started looking for them.
"I was straining my eyes to decipher the inscriptions, when I thought I heard, or rather felt a rustle behind me. I took no notice, thinking a draft had lifted some curtain. But a minute later, another movement, almost indistinct, sent a disagreeable little shiver over my skin. It was so ridiculous to be moved thus even so slightly, that I would not turn round, being ashamed. I had just discovered the second package I needed, and was on the point of reaching for the third, when a great and sorrowful sigh, close to my shoulder, made me give a mad leap two yards away. In my spring I had turned round, my hand on the hilt of my sword, and surely had I not felt that, I should have fled like a coward.
"A tall woman, dressed in white, was facing me, standing behind the chair in which I had sat a second before.
"Such a shudder ran through me that I almost fell back! Oh, no one who has not felt them can understand those gruesome and ridiculous terrors! The soul melts; your heart seems to stop; your whole body becomes limp as a sponge, and your innermost parts seem collapsing.
"I do not believe in ghosts; and yet I broke down before the hideous fear of the dead; and I suffered, oh, I suffered more in a few minutes, in the irresistible anguish of supernatural dread, than I have suffered in all the rest of my life!
"If she had not spoken, I might have died. But she did speak; she spoke in a soft and plaintive voice which set my nerves vibrating. I could not say that I regained my self-control. No, I was past knowing what I did; but the kind of pride I have in me, as well as a military pride, helped me to maintain, almost in spite of myself, an honorable countenance. I was making a pose, a pose for myself, and for her, for her, whatever she was, woman, or phantom. I realized this later, for at the time of the apparition, I could think of nothing. I was afraid.
"She said:
"'Oh, you can be of great help to me, monsieur!'
"I tried to answer, but I was unable to utter one word. A vague sound came from my throat.
"She continued:
"'Will you? You can save me, cure me. I suffer terribly. I always suffer. I suffer, oh, I suffer!'
"And she sat down gently in my chair. She looked at me.
"'Will you?'
"I nodded my head, being still paralyzed.
"Then she handed me a woman's comb of tortoise-shell, and murmured:
"'Comb my hair! Oh, comb my hair! That will cure me. Look at my head—how I suffer! And my hair—how it hurts!'
"Her loose hair, very long, very black, it seemed to me, hung over the back of the chair, touching the floor.
"Why did I do it? Why did I, shivering, accept that comb, and why did I take between my hands her long hair, which left on my skin a ghastly impression of cold, as if I had handled serpents? I do not know.
"That feeling still clings about my fingers, and I shiver when I recall it.
"I combed her, I handled, I know not how, that hair of ice. I bound and unbound it; I plaited it as one plaits a horse's mane. She sighed, bent her head, seemed happy.
"Suddenly she said, 'Thank you!' tore the comb from my hands, and fled through the door which I had noticed was half opened.
"Left alone, I had for a few seconds the hazy feeling one feels in waking up from a nightmare. Then I recovered myself. I ran to the window and broke the shutters by my furious assault.
"A stream of light poured in. I rushed to the door through which that being had gone. I found it locked and immovable.
"Then a fever of flight seized on me, a panic, the true panic of battle. I quickly grasped the three packages of letters from the open desk; I crossed the room running, I took the steps of the stairway four at a time. I found myself outside, I don't know how, and seeing my horse close by, I mounted in one leap and left at a full gallop.
"I didn't stop till I reached Rouen and drew up in front of my house. Having thrown the reins to my orderly, I flew to my room and locked myself in to think.
"Then for an hour I asked myself whether I had not been the victim of an hallucination. Certainly I must have had one of those nervous shocks, one of those brain disorders such as give rise to miracles, to which the supernatural owes its strength.
"And I had almost concluded that it was a vision, an illusion of my senses, when I came near to the window. My eyes by chance looked down. My tunic was covered with hairs, long woman's hairs which had entangled themselves around the buttons!
"I took them off one by one and threw them out of the window with trembling fingers.
"I then called my orderly. I felt too perturbed, too moved, to go and see my friend on that day. Besides, I needed to think over what I should tell him.
"I had his letters delivered to him. He gave a receipt to the soldier. He inquired after me and was told that I was not well. I had had a sunstroke, or something. He seemed distressed.
"I went to see him the next day, early in the morning, bent on telling him the truth. He had gone out the evening before and had not come back.
"I returned the same day, but he had not been seen. I waited a week. He did not come back. I notified the police. They searched for him everywhere, but no one could find any trace of his passing or of his retreat.
"A careful search was made in the deserted manor. No suspicious clue was discovered.
"There was no sign that a woman had been concealed there.
"The inquest gave no result, and so the search went no further.
"And in fifty-six years I have learned nothing more. I never found out the truth."
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Then the old Marquis de la Tour-Samuel, eighty-two years of age, rose and came forward to lean on the mantelpiece. He told the following story in his slightly quavering voice.
"I, also, have witnessed a strange thing—so strange that it has been the nightmare of my life. It happened fifty-six years ago, and yet there is not a month when I do not see it again in my dreams. From that day I have borne a mark, a stamp of fear,—do you understand?
"Yes, for ten minutes I was a prey to terror, in such a way that ever since a constant dread has remained in my soul. Unexpected sounds chill me to the heart; objects which I can ill distinguish in the evening shadows make me long to flee. I am afraid at night.
"No! I would not have owned such a thing before reaching my present age. But now I may tell everything. One may fear imaginary dangers at eighty-two years old. But before actual danger I have never turned back, mesdames.
"That affair so upset my mind, filled me with such a deep, mysterious unrest that I never could tell it. I kept it in that inmost part, that corner where we conceal our sad, our shameful secrets, all the weaknesses of our life which cannot be confessed.
"I will tell you that strange happening just as it took place, with no attempt to explain it. Unless I went mad for one short hour it must be explainable, though. Yet I was not mad, and I will prove it to you. Imagine what you will. Here are the simple facts:
"It was in 1827, in July. I was quartered with my regiment in Rouen.
"One day, as I was strolling on the quay, I came across a man I believed I recognized, though I could not place him with certainty. I instinctively went more slowly, ready to pause. The stranger saw my impulse, looked at me, and fell into my arms.
"It was a friend of my younger days, of whom I had been very fond. He seemed to have become half a century older in the five years since I had seen him. His hair was white, and he stooped in his walk, as if he were exhausted. He understood my amazement and told me the story of his life.
"A terrible event had broken him down. He had fallen madly in love with a young girl and married her in a kind of dreamlike ecstasy. After a year of unalloyed bliss and unexhausted passion, she had died suddenly of heart disease, no doubt killed by love itself.
"He had left the country on the very day of her funeral, and had come to live in his hotel at Rouen. He remained there, solitary and desperate, grief slowly mining him, so wretched that he constantly thought of suicide.
"'As I thus came across you again,' he said, 'I shall ask a great favor of you. I want you to go to my château and get some papers I urgently need. They are in the writing-desk of my room, of our room. I cannot send a servant or a lawyer, as the errand must be kept private. I want absolute silence.
"'I shall give you the key of the room, which I locked carefully myself before leaving, and the key to the writing-desk. I shall also give you a note for the gardener, who will let you in.
"'Come to breakfast with me to-morrow, and we'll talk the matter over.'
"I promised to render him that slight service. It would mean but a pleasant excursion for me, his home not being more than twenty-five miles from Rouen. I could go there in an hour on horseback.
"At ten o'clock the next day I was with him. We breakfasted alone together, yet he did not utter more than twenty words. He asked me to excuse him. The thought that I was going to visit the room where his happiness lay shattered, upset him, he said. Indeed, he seemed perturbed, worried, as if some mysterious struggle were taking place in his soul.
"At last he explained exactly what I was to do. It was very simple. I was to take two packages of letters and some papers, locked in the first drawer at the right of the desk of which I had the key. He added:
"'I need not ask you not to glance at them.'
"I was almost hurt by his words, and told him so, rather sharply. He stammered:
"'Forgive me. I suffer so much!'
"And tears came to his eyes.
"I left about one o'clock to accomplish my errand.
"The day was radiant, and I rushed through the meadows, listening to the song of the larks, and the rhythmical beat of my sword on my riding-boots.
"Then I entered the forest, and I set my horse to walking. Branches of the trees softly caressed my face, and now and then I would catch a leaf between my teeth and bite it with avidity, full of the joy of life, such as fills you without reason, with a tumultuous happiness almost indefinable, a kind of magical strength.
"As I neared the house I took out the letter for the gardener, and noted with surprise that it was sealed. I was so amazed and so annoyed that I almost turned back without fulfilling my mission. Then I thought that I should thus display over-sensitiveness and bad taste. My friend might have sealed it unconsciously, worried as he was.
"The manor looked as though it had been deserted the last twenty years. The gate, wide-open and rotten, held, one wondered how. Grass filled the paths; you could not tell the flower-beds from the lawn.
"At the noise I made kicking a shutter, an old man came out from a side-door and was apparently amazed to see me there. I dismounted from my horse and gave him the letter. He read it once or twice, turned it over, looked at me with suspicion, and asked:
"'Well, what do you want?'
"I answered sharply:
"'You must know it as you have read your master's orders. I want to get in the house.'
"He appeared overwhelmed. He said:
"'So—you are going in—in his room?'
"I was getting impatient.
"'Parbleu! Do you intend to question me, by chance?'
"He stammered:
"'No—monsieur—only—it has not been opened since—since the death. If you will wait five minutes, I will go in to see whether——'
"I interrupted angrily:
"'See here, are you joking? You can't go in that room, as I have the key!'
"He no longer knew what to say.
"'Then, monsieur, I will show you the way.'
"'Show me the stairs and leave me alone. I can find it without your help.'
"'But—still—monsieur——'
"Then I lost my temper.
"'Now be quiet! Else you'll be sorry!'
"I roughly pushed him aside and went into the house.
"I first went through the kitchen, then crossed two small rooms occupied by the man and his wife. From there I stepped into a large hall. I went up the stairs, and I recognized the door my friend had described to me.
"I opened it with ease and went in.
"The room was so dark that at first I could not distinguish anything. I paused, arrested by that moldy and stale odor peculiar to deserted and condemned rooms, of dead rooms. Then gradually my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and I saw rather clearly a great room in disorder, a bed without sheets having still its mattresses and pillows, one of which bore the deep print of an elbow or a head, as if someone had just been resting on it.
"The chairs seemed all in confusion. I noticed that a door, probably that of a closet, had remained ajar.
"I first went to the window and opened it to get some light, but the hinges of the outside shutters were so rusted that I could not loosen them.
"I even tried to break them with my sword, but did not succeed. As those fruitless attempts irritated me, and as my eyes were by now adjusted to the dim light, I gave up hope of getting more light and went toward the writing-desk.
"I sat down in an arm-chair, folded back the top, and opened the drawer. It was full to the edge. I needed but three packages, which I knew how to distinguish, and I started looking for them.
"I was straining my eyes to decipher the inscriptions, when I thought I heard, or rather felt a rustle behind me. I took no notice, thinking a draft had lifted some curtain. But a minute later, another movement, almost indistinct, sent a disagreeable little shiver over my skin. It was so ridiculous to be moved thus even so slightly, that I would not turn round, being ashamed. I had just discovered the second package I needed, and was on the point of reaching for the third, when a great and sorrowful sigh, close to my shoulder, made me give a mad leap two yards away. In my spring I had turned round, my hand on the hilt of my sword, and surely had I not felt that, I should have fled like a coward.
"A tall woman, dressed in white, was facing me, standing behind the chair in which I had sat a second before.
"Such a shudder ran through me that I almost fell back! Oh, no one who has not felt them can understand those gruesome and ridiculous terrors! The soul melts; your heart seems to stop; your whole body becomes limp as a sponge, and your innermost parts seem collapsing.
"I do not believe in ghosts; and yet I broke down before the hideous fear of the dead; and I suffered, oh, I suffered more in a few minutes, in the irresistible anguish of supernatural dread, than I have suffered in all the rest of my life!
"If she had not spoken, I might have died. But she did speak; she spoke in a soft and plaintive voice which set my nerves vibrating. I could not say that I regained my self-control. No, I was past knowing what I did; but the kind of pride I have in me, as well as a military pride, helped me to maintain, almost in spite of myself, an honorable countenance. I was making a pose, a pose for myself, and for her, for her, whatever she was, woman, or phantom. I realized this later, for at the time of the apparition, I could think of nothing. I was afraid.
"She said:
"'Oh, you can be of great help to me, monsieur!'
"I tried to answer, but I was unable to utter one word. A vague sound came from my throat.
"She continued:
"'Will you? You can save me, cure me. I suffer terribly. I always suffer. I suffer, oh, I suffer!'
"And she sat down gently in my chair. She looked at me.
"'Will you?'
"I nodded my head, being still paralyzed.
"Then she handed me a woman's comb of tortoise-shell, and murmured:
"'Comb my hair! Oh, comb my hair! That will cure me. Look at my head—how I suffer! And my hair—how it hurts!'
"Her loose hair, very long, very black, it seemed to me, hung over the back of the chair, touching the floor.
"Why did I do it? Why did I, shivering, accept that comb, and why did I take between my hands her long hair, which left on my skin a ghastly impression of cold, as if I had handled serpents? I do not know.
"That feeling still clings about my fingers, and I shiver when I recall it.
"I combed her, I handled, I know not how, that hair of ice. I bound and unbound it; I plaited it as one plaits a horse's mane. She sighed, bent her head, seemed happy.
"Suddenly she said, 'Thank you!' tore the comb from my hands, and fled through the door which I had noticed was half opened.
"Left alone, I had for a few seconds the hazy feeling one feels in waking up from a nightmare. Then I recovered myself. I ran to the window and broke the shutters by my furious assault.
"A stream of light poured in. I rushed to the door through which that being had gone. I found it locked and immovable.
"Then a fever of flight seized on me, a panic, the true panic of battle. I quickly grasped the three packages of letters from the open desk; I crossed the room running, I took the steps of the stairway four at a time. I found myself outside, I don't know how, and seeing my horse close by, I mounted in one leap and left at a full gallop.
"I didn't stop till I reached Rouen and drew up in front of my house. Having thrown the reins to my orderly, I flew to my room and locked myself in to think.
"Then for an hour I asked myself whether I had not been the victim of an hallucination. Certainly I must have had one of those nervous shocks, one of those brain disorders such as give rise to miracles, to which the supernatural owes its strength.
"And I had almost concluded that it was a vision, an illusion of my senses, when I came near to the window. My eyes by chance looked down. My tunic was covered with hairs, long woman's hairs which had entangled themselves around the buttons!
"I took them off one by one and threw them out of the window with trembling fingers.
"I then called my orderly. I felt too perturbed, too moved, to go and see my friend on that day. Besides, I needed to think over what I should tell him.
"I had his letters delivered to him. He gave a receipt to the soldier. He inquired after me and was told that I was not well. I had had a sunstroke, or something. He seemed distressed.
"I went to see him the next day, early in the morning, bent on telling him the truth. He had gone out the evening before and had not come back.
"I returned the same day, but he had not been seen. I waited a week. He did not come back. I notified the police. They searched for him everywhere, but no one could find any trace of his passing or of his retreat.
"A careful search was made in the deserted manor. No suspicious clue was discovered.
"There was no sign that a woman had been concealed there.
"The inquest gave no result, and so the search went no further.
"And in fifty-six years I have learned nothing more. I never found out the truth."
And here are two great Ghost Videos of video evidence of ghosts in St Augustine Florida
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