Ghosts along the Texas Coast (16 page)

Mr. Mario Cecacci, next-door neighbor to Williams house (which is in background)

Maybe that's why strange vibes have stuck with the old house! It seems “Little Sam,” Williams' son, died of an unknown illness when he was just 10 years old. And apparently a slave once tried to kill Williams' wife, Sarah, by lacing her food with finely ground glass! Fortunately, the glass was discovered in time. The guilty servant was locked up in a room below the kitchen as punishment.

Today the house is open to the public for viewing. It is a project of the Galveston Historical Society. An unusual, and very effective, audio-visual program lets the visitor listen in on “conversations” with the Williams family members and their friends. One can almost sense Samuel Williams relaxing in his favorite chair while his young daughter, Caddy, plays the piano in the old parlor!

Upstairs were the children's bedrooms, those of young Sam and his sister, Caddy. The former director of the Williams House Museum, Kathleen Hink, told me she had had no personal encounters or experiences of a supernatural nature while she served as museum director, but according to Long's article, she had told him as she worked there late one evening, a lamp in the downstairs hallway was turned on. She turned it off, and then the lamp started rattling “ninety to nothing.”

We recently enjoyed a visit with Mr. Mario P. Ceccaci, Jr., who has lived next door to the Williams house since 1951. He told us that a docent who once worked there told him about the visit of a lady who claimed to be a psychic. She had just entered the house and paid her admission to tour the building, when she suddenly said she couldn't go on the tour. She had felt Mr. Williams' presence so strongly that nothing could persuade her to go past the front door!

Ceccaci said the house had belonged to a Tucker family for about ninety years. After Mrs. Tucker died in 1952, the house remained closed up for many years and rapidly deteriorated. Many Tucker antiques were still inside, and Mr. Ceccaci said he would periodically go into the house and check to see if everything was all right. On one of his checkups he noticed that a fire had recently burnt in a previously empty fireplace. Embers and ashes still remained. To his knowledge, no one had entered the building recently. A careful check failed to show any signs of a forced entry. He knew he was the only person who had access to the house. He firmly believes there was a ghostly visitor who had enjoyed a warm fire on a cold night!

Numerous visitors from various places have reported feeling a strong presence, and a coldness on the second floor landing just outside the children's bedrooms. No one has reported a sighting, but the strong feeling that something is there still pervades.

It's pretty much a sure thing that at least one of the Williams family has remained in spirit, just to make sure everything is in order, over 150 years later. After all, time stands still for a ghost!

In September of 1992, my husband, Roy, and I were the guests of the East Texas Tourism Association on a familiarization tour of Southeast Texas communities. Included in our jam-packed itinerary was Galveston Island. The representatives of the Galveston Convention and Visitors Bureau pulled out all the stops to show our group a wonderful overview of the historic landmarks of that great city on the Gulf of Mexico.

Our group was treated to an elegant progressive dinner. After the salad course, which we enjoyed at the beautiful Moody mansion, we moved on to Ashton Villa, where the main entree was served. This magnificent mansion, a project of the Galveston Historical Foundation, is located at 2328 Broadway. The splendid villa was built by James Moreau Brown in 1859. Brown, a hardware magnate, was one of Texas' leading businessmen, and his home became a meeting place of the great and near-great from across the land. While no mention was made of Mrs. Brown, we were told that his colorful daughter, Rebecca, generally known as “Miss Bettie,” served as his hostess and presided over the household for many years. And therein lies a story. . . .

After our group had dined in a large reception room, we were given a tour of the beautiful residence. As I wandered through one of the upstairs bedrooms, I felt something . . . a little shiver, perhaps just a feeling as I looked around. Then I walked down the broad staircase and strolled into the main parlor known as the Gold Room. I felt some presence was with me as I walked. Then, as I moved towards a beautiful antique piano, the hair stood up on my arms and a real shiver went right through me. I stopped, walked out of the room, and sought out one of the Galveston hostesses. I asked her if she knew whether or not Ashton Villa was haunted. She said, “Well . . . there are stories.” I couldn't get much more from her as it was time for our group to move on to still another landmark, the Old Opera House, where we were served our dessert course.

Having felt something, some special energy in the Gold Room, I was most anxious to pursue the subject further. Finally, some time later, I obtained some printed material from Galveston's famous Rosenberg Library. Casey Edward Greene, the Assistant Archivist, sent me copies of articles from the files in the library that substantiate that I had, indeed, almost had a “close encounter” with “Miss Bettie” Brown.

In the days when the Browns entertained in their grand mansion, guests were often shown into the formal reception room, or salon. There, elegant Victorian galas and musical recitals were held. “Miss Bettie,” who never married, would have been quite at home in today's liberal society. She was way ahead of her own day; a liberated woman before the term “woman's lib” existed! An accomplished and multi-talented artist, she traveled, alone and unchaperoned, all over Europe. She smoked a pipe, and was said to have urged at least one of her male admirers to drink champagne from her golden slipper! “Miss Bettie” was definitely an individualist and possessed a very strong personality.

Ashton Villa, at 2328 Broadway in Galveston

An article from Galveston County's
In Between
(the October 1978 issue, featuring Galveston County's ghosts) stated that the furnishings of the Gold Room at Ashton Villa were true reflections of the lifestyle of Rebecca Brown. Many of her most treasured possessions are shown displayed in a small alcove. There are costumes, fans, an Egyptian mummy's head, and a diamond-studded cat's head she purchased in Paris. Two of her original paintings also hang in the room. One depicts a demure Victorian lass on a swing; the other portrays two rotund cherubs, one of whom boasts the wings of a butterfly!

In the adjacent dining room there is a photo on display which shows a servant standing in a doorway. But what sets the picture apart from the ordinary is that to the left of the mantel pictured in the photograph, the image of another man's face is plainly visible. Could it possibly be a ghost?

Then, there's that magnificent piano . . . the same instrument I stopped near when the feeling of a presence overtook me. The story from
In Between
stated that a caretaker who had lived in the carriage house adjacent to the villa vividly recalled a night when he was awakened from a sound sleep about 3:30 a.m. by the sounds of a piano playing. Because there had been some attempted break-ins, he decided to go check the villa. As he entered, he heard the music emanating from the elegant Gold Room. As he came into the room he was startled to see the faint image of a woman in nineteenth century clothing seated at the piano bench. In just a moment, both she and the music which was playing faded completely away. The caretaker was quoted as saying that he turned on every light in the building and stayed awake for the remainder of the night!

Steven Long, a newswriter for the Houston
Chronicle
, wrote an interesting feature for the October 29,1993, edition of that paper. The article, which was titled, “Haunted Houses,” stated that Lucie Testa, weekend manager at the villa since 1988, had experienced several strange happenings there. On February 18,1991, the alarm system went off, for no particular reason, three different times. Then, as Testa prepared to close the house for the day, she noticed the ceiling fan at the top of the staircase had come on. She climbed the stairs to turn it off, only to find it running again when she arrived the next morning! She noted that Miss Bettie Brown had been born on February 18, 1855! Extrovert that she was, maybe she just wanted to make sure somebody remembered her birthday!

Testa also told about feeling a ghostly presence in Miss Bettie's former day room. At the end of the single bed there is an ornate chest that she purchased on a trip to the Middle East. The key was lost many years ago. Sometimes the chest is locked. Other times it is unlocked. There is no explanation whatsoever for this.

Long's article in the
Chronicle
also related that a volunteer who came to work at the villa during the “Dickens Christmas on the Strand” weekend reported seeing a lady standing at the top of the grand staircase. She was wearing a beautiful turquoise blue dress. He reported seeing her to Testa, but there had been no one in the house wearing that color on that day. Turquoise was known to have been Miss Bettie Brown's very favorite color!

When I made a recent telephone call to Ashton Villa, one of the docents to whom I spoke confided that there was one upstairs bedroom in which there is a bed that never stays properly made up. No matter how many times a day the staff members straighten the spread and smooth out the wrinkles, it always appears rumpled and wrinkled. She said this was in Miss Bettie's bed-sitting room. I wondered if it was the room in which I had first felt that strange otherworldly presence.

One might make a final conclusion about the Ashton Villa and all the strange, unexplainable things that have occurred there over the years. The former mistress of the household is still around, at least in spirit, and she's just keeping everybody aware of the fact that she is still very much in charge!

One of Galveston's most charming historic homes is known as The Oaks. The magnificent peach-colored plantation-style wooden house with its plethora of galleries is surrounded by great, spreading oak trees. It is the island's oldest surviving house.

The Greek Revival structure was built in 1838 by Augusta Allen, founder of Houston. It was later sold to Michel Menard, a founder of Galveston, and is most often referred to as “The Menard Residence.”

I learned from Virginia (Mrs. Merle E.) Eisenhour, a Galveston historian, that her ancestor Edwin Ketchum purchased the property in 1880 from the divorced wife of Michel Menard's son. The house stayed in Ketchum's family for ninety-seven years. Currently The Oaks is unoccupied. When we were in Galveston in February 1994, a crew was working at restoring the lovely old mansion. It will be restored to its former grandeur.

Mrs. Eisenhour said her family moved into the ancestral home in 1941, when she was a teenager. She said she was very lonely at first, as there was nothing to do and she had no friends in Galveston. One rainy, gloomy evening, she was sitting at the top of the stairs with her pet dog. She said the animal began to growl and bark and became extremely agitated. He was gazing downward, towards the front entry hall and doorway. Virginia cast her eyes downward, and was astounded to see reflected in the light from the hallway chandelier the image of the head and shoulders of a young woman, which began to form in a pool of light on the front door. She was clearly visible. Her hair, which was straight, was pulled severely back from her face, arranged into a bun. A brooch or cameo was at the neckline of her gown. The image was not full-length, just the portion above the waist. Virginia ran to get her mother, and she also saw the woman's image quite clearly.

Although they looked for the image the next night, and other nights to come, the face of the young woman never again appeared to them. But dating from that appearance, things started to turn around for the young Virginia. Invitations began to arrive, the family started to meet a lot of people, and soon they had a real sense of belonging in Galveston!

Later, Mrs. Eisenhour said, she learned that former slaves had told some of her ancestors that when Colonel and Mrs. Menard lived there, they had two adopted daughters, Helen and Clara. The story told by the slaves was that one of the girls had tripped and fallen down the front stairs, breaking her neck. Whether this was true, Mrs. Eisenhour has not been able to document. However, it is definitely known that Clara died young. Perhaps it was she who appeared to Virginia so many years ago, a beautiful ever-young spirit come to welcome her to her new home at The Oaks and into Galveston society!