Pages

16 October 2017

Ghost Stories of New York City

Who is that in the study's window...?
Yesterday at the Grange, I heard phantom whistling at the back of the house after one of my tours.

This is not the first time this has happened to me. In fact, I made a comic about the first time I experienced it, even though Sarah and I determined it was probably an auditory hallucination:


But now that it's happened again, 2 months later, I'm not so sure anymore. Is it possible it could be a ghost?

Logically, I'd have to say no. I don't believe Hamilton Grange is haunted. There'd be a lot more stories about Hamilton's ghost if he were still sticking around. I'm fairly certain the guy has no unfinished business keeping him on this mortal plane. And even if he were to stick around in the house that meant so much to him, the building has been moved from its original location. Twice.

But it's fun to think there might be a paranormal explanation to the whistling. Is it likely? Not really. But imagining I might come face-to-face with a ghost is fun, especially this time of year! It's happened before, after all - back at Winchester I had quite a few paranormal encounters. I never got a bad vibe from the ghosts of the Winchester house. The spirits there are pretty benign, and will respect you if you respect them.

The Winchester Mystery House is, of course, notorious for its hauntings. Hamilton Grange is not. But that's not to say New York City doesn't have its fair share of ghosts, Aaron Burr being only one of the most famous. And that shouldn't be too surprising. It's had a very large population for centuries. That's a lot of people dying. Statistically, if ghosts are real, there should be a higher-than-average number of them in New York City. And there are. If you know where to look.

I'm going to give you three New York City ghostly tales, starting with one with a connection to Hamilton and Burr. But I encourage you to look up more yourself. New York has a fascinating paranormal history, and I'm barely scratching the tip of the iceberg here. And hey, if you have a ghost story of your own you'd like to share, be it NYC-related or not, please tell me in the comments or on my facebook page.


1. The Elma Sands Murder Well

 
This is going to be one of the more well-known ghosts on this list, especially with "Hamilton" being so popular. Elma Sands isn't mentioned in the musical, but the suspect for her murder is: "Our client Levi Weeks is innocent/Call your first witness/That's all you had to say" raps Aaron Burr. But who were Elma Sands and Levi Weeks? What happened?

On 2 January 1800, the body of Guilelma Sands, nicknamed "Elma" by people who knew her, was found in a well not too far from the boarding house on Greenwich Street that she was staying in. Though some had reported that she had been suicidal, most remembered her as a happy woman, and it was quickly determined that she had been murdered. After all, the well had been covered up - something Elma would not have been able to do herself if she had fallen or been placed in the well. Suspicion fell on her maybe-fiancée and fellow boarder, Levi Weeks. He had been the last person she had been seen with, on 22 December 1799. She had told another boarder that they were eloping that night. They left together at about 8:00 PM. Levi returned alone a few hours later.

When Elma's body was found, it's understandable why Weeks was immediately suspected. Rumours flew. Maybe Elma was pregnant and he had murdered her to cover it up - though her autopsy determined she had not been pregnant. Weeks's wealthy brother Ezra Weeks, who was later the contractor Hamilton selected to help build the Grange, paid the big bucks to have his brother defended by the top lawyers in the country. The dream team. Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, working together at last. (Oh yeah and a third lawyer, Brockholst Livingston. History tends to forget about him.) Aaron Burr in particular may have had a good reason to defend Weeks - his Manhattan Water Company owned the well Sands had been found in.

This trial was a sensation. The prosecution claimed that Weeks had clearly been strangled. The man who found her body testified that he believed her neck looked broken, with a ring of bruises around it. Others testified that they had heard Elma screaming on the night of the murder.

The defense argued that she had committed suicide. They argued that Weeks had an alibi. They defamed the dead woman's character and implied that she was a loose woman. (I don't know which of the three lawyers came up with that idea, but if it was Hamilton, I am sorely disappointed in him for it.) Ultimately, Levi Weeks was found not guilty.

Here's where it gets interesting. Some versions of the tale say that a friend or cousin of Elma's, Catherine Ring, approached the three defense lawyers after the trial. She is said to have pointed a finger at Hamilton and told him "If thee dies a natural death, I shall think there is no justice in Heaven!" However, this probably didn't happen - this detail is only present in stories of the trial told after Hamilton's untimely death.

Whether or not you believe Weeks was guilty of murdering Sands, either way whoever did it got away with it. No one was ever punished for her death. The first murder case in America is still unsolved. And Elma is still said to be around the spot that she died. Since the mid-1800s, people have reported seeing a spectral figure, a pretty redhead in torn, wet clothing with bruises on her neck.

The well has been closed off, but it's still there, in a building that the Travel Channel once named as one of the most haunted in America. For many years, the building was a restaurant, and during this time, restaurant patrons would hear banging on the walls and witness cups flying through the restaurant seemingly on their own. Footsteps were heard from the room with the well. The restaurant is closed now, and the building is now a high-end clothing store. I haven't found any instance of Elma acting up in the current store, though I haven't visited myself. It's worth further investigation...

2. The Merchant's House Museum


Though not so famous nationally, this one is pretty well known in New York. According to the museum's own website, both the New York Times and TimeOut New York have named this as the most haunted house in Manhattan. And it's certainly one of the oldest remaining houses, especially in the downtown area. This Greek Revival home was built in the early 1830s. It's one of the best preserved buildings of its era, and worth visiting because of that - especially because it still retains its original furniture, a rarity for house museums. It was owned by the Tredwell family for over 100 years, and became a museum pretty much immediately after the last member of the family, Gertrude Tredwell, died in the 1930s.

But its haunted reputation may be something of a surprise. Most ghost stories have some element of tragedy to them. Murder and suicide are almost more common in ghost stories than the ghosts themselves. However, the Tredwell family seems to have largely escaped such tragedy. Gertrude Tredwell, the ghost most often seen (though people report her father Seabury pretty often as well), died of natural causes at age 93. The closest thing to a tragedy with her was that she never married.

And yet, all the signs of a haunting are there. Strange sounds and smells, apparitions, piano music coming from the parlour when the museum has closed for the night, and more. Teacups have been known to disappear from the kitchen display and reappear elsewhere in the house. Gertrude's bedroom where she died regularly contains a cold breeze. Staff computers freeze upon typing the word "Tredwell".

My favourite of these tales is that of one guest who asked a question to who they thought was a museum volunteer in period dress, only to be astonished when the Victorian-looking woman actually disappeared and they later found out the volunteers wore street clothes, not period costumes. Gertrude's ghost also has reportedly told guests at the door that museum was closed when it wasn't, though she's generally seen as a more benign spirit than that. This is even more interesting to me, as it shows her ghost interacts with the public when many ghosts don't.

Why, though? Why is Gertrude still around if she lived a life relatively free of tragedy? The house is an oddity because of that.

Interestingly, when I visited the house last year, I only felt strangeness in one room. And it wasn't a room one would expect to find Gertrude. It was only when I went upstairs into the attic, where the family's Irish servants lived, that I felt an overwhelming sensation. Not a presence, mind you. No one was in that room with me, living or dead. But I got a rush of emotions, and a feeling that someone could be if I remained long enough. I was so affected that when I bought a postcard for my journal, I picked the one of the servant's quarters, not one of the prettier rooms the family itself would have used. I haven't yet found tales of the ghosts of the family's servant girls, but I wouldn't be surprised if they, too, were still around.

3. Melrose Hall


Let's get out of Manhattan, now. In Brooklyn, in what's now the Prospect-Lefferts area, there once stood a mansion called Melrose Hall, a Colonial-era home filled with secret passages, like something right out of a gothic novel. For years, people whispered of a ghost of a woman haunting the place - a woman who had died after being locked in one of the secret rooms. This tale is sordid. It's compelling. It's a cautionary tale about forbidden love and the perils of secrecy. We're going all the way back to the American Revolution with this one.

New York was actually a primarily loyalist area for much of the war, and this manor belonged to one of those loyalists - Colonel William Axtell, head of the militia known as the Nassau Blues, or - as patriot troops called them - the "Nasty Blues". After the disaster that was the Battle of Brooklyn, Axtell's troops purportedly captured many prisoners of war, and passers-by later reported screams of agony coming from Melrose Hall, Axtell's mansion. Slaves whispered rumours of the secret dungeons underneath the home, of the tortures performed on prisoners there. Either way, these prisoners Axtell took were never seen again. He wasn't punished for his cruelty. At least... not by the law.

Axtell soon took a lover, a woman named Isabella, though he was already married. Wanting to have his cake and eat it too, Axtell had Isabella hidden away in a secret room above his bedroom. This way, he could have both wife and mistress under the same roof without his wife ever knowing. The only other person in the house who knew of Isabella's presence was a slave woman named Miranda, who was charged with taking care of Isabella.

But one day, Axtell was called away to go overseas to England. Some say he urged Isabella to go free and not remain in the house, lest something should happen to Miranda - but Isabella got angry and accused Axtell of treating her like a whore he could just throw away rather than a woman who loved him and was determined to remain in his house as his wife. (Though, again, Axtell was married to another woman.) Axtell agreed to let Isabella remain in her secret suite as usual while he was away. You can probably guess what happened next.

Miranda got sick and died when Axtell was overseas. And no one else in the house knew of Isabella, still locked away in her secret room, waiting for Miranda to bring her food. Trapped, she starved to death. When Axtell heard of Miranda's death, he knew that Isabella wouldn't last long. He knew she would be long dead by the time he got home. When he was able to return home, he was deeply distressed. His wife didn't know why, and decided to throw a dinner party to welcome him back home and lift his spirits.

According to legend, during the dinner, at one point the candles suddenly all flickered. The dining hall went cold and the windows began to open and shut themselves. A secret door in the fireplace swung open, and a decaying figure of a woman's corpse appeared - Isabella. She pointed her finger at Axtell's wife, and then at Axtell, saying only one word. 'Betrayer'. The dinner guests pressed themselves against the walls in fear. Someone screamed. The room went dark. And Axtell collapsed, only to die a few hours later.

The family sold the house and returned to England. Those who bought the house afterwards discovered the secret passages and rooms - and in one of them, the emaciated corpse of Isabella.

The story certainly is dramatic. But it may never have happened at all. Historic records show that Axtell didn't die that night - he returned to England after the Revolution and died there years later, in 1795. Isabella may have never even existed. There seems to be no record of her last name, which makes it conveniently impossible to find her in historic records. Legends have a way of growing and being embellished over time, so it's understandable that this story must have been changed.

And yet, even though it was certainly mostly made up, and even though the house is long gone, people still say they can see the ghost of a woman on the property. Is she Isabella? Or someone unknown?

Conclusion

It was difficult narrowing this down. New York has so many haunted places, from the Dakota Apartments to the Empire State Building. But who knows? Maybe I'll make another list like this next October. Until then?

Sleep tight.
-Nym

No comments:

Post a Comment