Haunted Charleston - Beyond The Light Frightseeing Seer Tour

Tales Of Haunted Charleston

The Battery Carriage House Inn

The Battery House Carriage Inn is located behind a magnificent mansion with a garden nook. The rooms used to be part of the carriage house for number 20, South Battery St. The mansion is located in front of the Inn. The mansion with its 5 stories and double piazzas is located across the street from White Point Gardens. The Gardens used to be used for pirate hangings and fortifications. The Charleston Harbor is within walking distance. It is great for afternoon walks.

Although the Inn is in a great location, it is famous for its spirits. The Inn contains two spirits, one headless torso and one gentle, lonesome spirit. The spirits like only two rooms in the Inn. There is proof that spirits really do haunt the Inn. A psychiatrist had visited the Inn twenty years ago and took a picture of the antiques in the Inn. Much to her surprise, when she got the film back there was a woman with dark, flowing hair. The film is in black and white, which makes it hard to make out details. The question still remains. Who are the two ghosts and why are they at the Inn?

In 1992, an engineer got more than he bargained for while staying at the Inn. While staying in one of the rooms known for paranormal activity, room 8, he saw and touched one of the ghosts. One night the man awoke and had the feeling that someone was in the room with him. When the man opened his eyes, he saw a broad, bear-chested man hovering in a small space between the bed and the wall. It was so close that the engineer could hear the raspy breathing and see the fibers sticking out of the overcoat that the ghost was wearing. It was so close that the man could reach out and touch the entity. That was a big mistake. At the moment of contact, the ghost let out a horrid growl then moaned and muttered some words that let the engineer know his displeasure. The man was very scared. It took him 8 months, along with some of his wife's convincing, to return and tell his tale.

As for the second spirit, he is a thin, well-dressed Victorian man. He likes to be in company with females. His mysterious death came from the 5-story mansion located in front of the inn. The man fell from the mansard roof, but nothing else was given. Much like the other tale, a woman wrote a letter describing her experience.

The woman, who remains anonymous, was staying in room number 10 with her twin sister. One evening while she was trying to sleep, she noticed a "wispy, gray apparition that appeared to be floating through the closed door, through the chair, and into the room." She didn't have time to think before the "thing" floated over towards her and laid down and put its arm around her shoulder. The woman wanted her sister to notice the spirit. After several tries to wake the sister, she awoke to her sister's voice. When the ghost heard the voice of the other sister it disappeared. The ghost got the nickname the "Gentleman Ghost" because he has done that before.

Legend of the Boo Hags

The legend of the Boo Hags originally comes from South Carolina's rich Gullah culture. According to the myth, Boo Hags are similar to vampires, except they steal your breath by "ridin" you. They are also supposedly much more frightening in appearance. An expression sometimes used in South Carolina is "don't let de hag ride ya." This expression obviously comes from the Boo Hag legend.

If you were ever to meet a Boo Hag, you would recognize them because they have no skin at all and are blood red in color. The Boo Hags are flaxen, which makes them appear raw and also makes them hard to hold on to, and their skin is also very warm. Due to their appearance, they tend to disguise themselves in others' skins. As they wear the skin as we might a costume, they freely go about their business to find people to "ride."

For Hags to go ridin', they must take off the skin and hide it so they can use it later. After a victim has been chosen, the Hag will fly to that person's house and gain access by sneaking in a crack. When the Hag starts to ride the victim (while they sleep), that person is rendered helpless. When the Hag is done ridin' it flies off to retrieve its skin. The victim awakes only feeling tired. The Boo Hag doesn't kill the victim because he or she could be a continuous source of energy for them to ride. But if someone started struggling, the Hag would consider them not worth riding again and would take their skin.

Legend of the James Heyward

In 1805, a party of James Heyward, his brother, and some friends departed from a home in Charleston. The men left around the break of dawn so they could arrive in the forests by dawn to spend the daylight hours deer hunting. Around eight o'clock, James' sister Maria heard noises in the library, so she left her chores and looked into the room, where she saw her brother James.

James was sitting in a chair with his back facing her. His head hung down like he was sleeping, and when she got closer to him she could see that his eyes were shut. Maria thought this strange, because James never wore a hat or muddy boots in the house, but she decided to leave her sleeping brother alone and go back to her chores. Around noon, Maria heard a commotion in the street and walked outside to see her brother James draped over his horse, dead. She ran to her other brother to see what had happened. Her brother explained that as the hunting trail had gotten narrower, the men had to ride in a single file line, with the hunting dogs leading the way. One of the dogs had spooked James' horse, and he had stumbled. In trying to keep his horse from rearing, James had tried to ward the dogs off with his gun. When the butt of the gun struck the ground, it went off, striking him in the process.

Maria began to protest, saying that he could not have been shot, because he had not left with the hunting party earlier that morning. She told her brother how she had seen James in the library at eight o'clock that morning. When her brother protested, Maria assured him that it had been James she had seen. Her brother then explained that she could not have seen him at eight o'clock, because that had been the exact time when the gun had gone off and James had died.

Legend of the Colonel Issac Hayne

In the winter of 1780, Charleston was amid gunfire and warfare from the Revolutionary War. As America tried to gain its independence from England, Charleston's patriots helped their new nation fight off the Redcoats. England responded with cruel punishments for anyone found helping the colonies. By spring of 1780, Britain had captured the ports of Charleston, and were working on punishing colonial troops for their treason against the King of England.

Many people captured by England were tortured until death, some were hanged, and others were faced against the firing squads. Colonial Isaac Hayne left the war after Charleston's surrender to return to his plantation and be with his family at their deathbed. Smallpox was a horrible plague at this time as well, and many troops returned from battle to learn their families were suffering from this disease. After their death, Hayne was asked to join the English army, but refused, stating he would never turn his back against America.

He was sentenced to death for treason against the King of England, and scheduled to be locked away in Charleston's dungeon until his scheduled date of death. His aunt and two surviving sons visited him daily. On one occasion they pleaded for their father to return to them, and he promised he would, if he could.

Time passed and Hayne's death date approached. Finally when the day came, he was forced to walk by his aunt's house. Watching from above were his aunt and two sons. They called down to their father who responded that he would return to them. Hayne was shot rather than hanged, which only served to make the people of Charleston more patriotic than before. The aunt's house never forgot that day either, the little boys' souls remained at the window calling down to their father, Colonial Hayne's voice could be heard at dusk to anyone standing at that window, and after nightfall, footsteps could be heard coming up the steps, signaling someone's return. Finally, this ended when the Civil War broke out and patriotism faced itself as people from one nation struggled against each other.

Legend of the Lavinia Fisher

Though she’s been dead for almost 200 years, the legend of Lavinia Fisher lives on. According to legend, Lavinia had a way with men, particularly her husband John. John and Lavinia ran the Six Mile House, located as stated, six miles north of Charleston. Travelers heading in and out of Charleston would stop over for refreshments or a room for the evening. Lavinia loved to bring the men into her parlor for tea and conversation. The particularly tasty ones – as Lavinia had a taste for gold – were the rich ones, who got an extra dose for their tea. A lethal one.

As the poison would take hold, Lavinia and John would help the suddenly weary traveler to a bed in the back. Once he was out, John would spring a lever, a trapdoor was sprung and the bed, occupant and all would fall into a pit below the house. If the poison and the fall didn’t kill him, John would finish him off, relieve the corpse of all valuables, put the bed back and dispose of the body.

One evening a fellow by the name of John Peoples stopped over. Lavinia took him to her parlor and offered him tea. Peoples didn’t particularly care for tea, but was a kind soul, so when Lavinia had her back turned, he poured the contents of the cup into a nearby plant. Over the course of the conversation, Lavinia started giving Peoples the willies. The presence and quirky behavior of John didn’t particularly help. Wanting to get away from the couple, John Peoples feigned tiredness, made his excuses and found his way to his bedroom. Glad to be out of the company of the Fishers, John found he wasn’t tired enough for bed, so set himself up in a chair by the door. As he sat there, the bed collapsed, falling into the pit. Startled, he leapt from the chair and threw open the door of his bedroom to summon help. Standing there was a very confused looking John Fisher, with Lavinia behind him, startled to see Peoples so active. Freaked, John Peoples slammed the door closed and bolted out the window, where he ran all the way to Charleston and reported what had happened to the police. Who of course investigated, noticed several reports of missing travelers along that stretch of road, and located the bodies of numerous victims. These events made Lavinia Fisher the first female serial killer in United States history.

A great story – one that gentile Charleston can trot out to tourists, particularly when escorting them around the gloomy and fascinating Unitarian Cemetery, where her ghost has been reported. But too good to be true. What really happened is this …

Charleston police had a number of reports about robberies out along the highway by Six Mile House. Charleston lived and breathed commerce, and the highways were of vital importance. So they took highway robbery seriously.

First the police went to Five Mile House, obviously located one mile from John and Lavinia’s inn. They burned that, then came to Six Mile House and evicted the Fishers. In their place, they left a fellow by the name of Dave Ross. The next day a gang shows up at the inn, who drag Ross outside where he sees Lavina. Oh how sweet she must have looked, and Ross looked to her for help. Lavinia instead choked Ross, then rammed his face through a window.

A couple hours later, the gang accosted the aforementioned John Peoples on the road and relieved him of about $40. Peoples went to the police and reported the crime, which along with the testimony of Ross was enough to get Lavinia and John Fisher hauled before the authorities. Charged with highway robbery, they were sentenced to be hung and sent to Charleston’s Old Jail. Since they were married, they were kept in the upper floors in a room together, from which they nearly escaped. John in fact, made it outside of the jail, but Lavinia couldn’t get out, so the loyal John allowed himself to be recaptured.

In South Carolina at the time, married women automatically escaped the death penalty, and Lavinia had hoped to escape the gallows by that. The judge squashed that plan however, telling her that they’d hang her husband first, which would make her a widow and eligible to hang. John mounted the gallows peacefully enough, but his loyalty to Lavinia broke when he suddenly proclaimed his innocence, then just as suddenly asked for forgiveness for his crimes and that was it for John. It’s said that Lavinia wore a wedding dress to her hanging, hoping her beauty and the pitifulness of her state would cause some man in the crowd to swoon, and marry her at the last moment. Evidently, when she realized that wasn’t going to happen, her mood soured. They had to drag her up on the gallows, kicking and screaming.

According on one historian at the time: “She stamped in rage and swore with all the vehemence of her amazing vocabulary, calling down damnation … The crowd stood shocked into silence, while she cut short one curse with another and ended with a volley of shrieks.” “If you have a message you want to send to hell, give it to me I’ll carry it, Lavinia said,” and a legend was born.

And no, it’s not Lavinia Fisher who is seen roaming the tombstones at Charleston’s Unitarian Church. Her and her husband were buried in potter’s field near the Old Jail. Which by the way, is another place where Lavinia’s spirit is thought to haunt. Lavinia’s ghost, and several other odd experiences have been reported in her cell at the Old Jail, including sightings of her apparition from outside, through the window.

A lot of strange things are seen on the streets of Charleston. With the Spanish moss hanging from the oaks, and the humidity of the summer thickening the air, it’s the story that counts most, to while away the praline sweet minutes.

Cooper River Bridge... A Bridge Too Far

In 1966, a family was returning from a visit to Sullivan's Island. They were starting over the Cooper River Bridge, when the father saw a car up ahead. It looked like it was out of the 1940s...an old green Oldsmobile and it was stopping and starting on the bridge. The father decided to move around the car.

There was the old car, which held two young children and a lady in the back seat, looking pale and lifeless, wearing 1940s clothing. In the front seat, a man and woman sat, both with eyes sunken into their skulls. Frightened, the father slammed on his brakes and let the old car pass. Then it vanished.

Research later revealed that a ship, which had broken loose from its moorings in 1946, hit one of the main support pillars of the Cooper River Bridge and caused its collapse. One car--a green 1940 Oldsmobile with a family of five inside--was trying to get across the bridge, and it went into the river.

Legend of George Poirier (F.W. Wagener Building)

Situated at 161 East Bay Street, the Wagener Building is a huge, High Victorian structure with large, high-arched windows and cast-iron interior pillars. It was built by German immigrant and agricultural broker, F.W. Wagener, in 1880 to house his firm’s various enterprises. All three floors feature an open, 80 by 260 foot space—plenty of room for Wagener’s offices and a grocery store, with space left over to rent.

Cotton was big business in Charleston in the early 1800s, due, in large part, to the thriving and profitable phosphate mining business. Phosphate mining allowed Charleston farmers to purchase more fertilizer at cheaper prices. Leading up to the Civil War, money for cotton poured in from England and the northern states, making cotton—and by extension, phosphate—two of the most profitable businesses Charleston had ever seen.

Nothing lasts forever, though, and the Poirier family, like many wealthy cotton planters, made sure their bread was buttered on both sides. The Poiriers rented office space from F.W. Wagener, and used his firm’s services to broker their cotton sales. Then, in 1881, things began to shift. Phosphate fertilizer helped planters produce record crops, but those planters soon found themselves with an overabundance of cotton. But the Poiriers were prepared. Though business had taken a downturn, the Poiriers had invested wisely. During the war, they publically dumped money into the Confederacy, but also quietly invested in U.S. Bonds and British interests. They enjoyed such a lavish lifestyle and successful enterprise, that their son, George, inherited the business having scarcely worked a full day in his entire life. Unaccustomed to the discipline and attention required to run a successful cotton business, George quickly burned through his inheritance.

Then, in 1885, the boll weevil fiercely attacked Charleston cotton crops. George, quickly finding himself in over his head, became acutely aware of his situation. His entire self-worth had been intertwined with the success and reputation of his family, so when the money began to run out, he started into a steep, psychological downward spiral. He thought of one, last-ditch effort to pay off his creditors and move away from the cotton business. He gathered his meager harvest of cotton, and brokered a deal with the British for his last load. After his cotton was loaded on the England-bound merchant ship, George climbed to his third floor office of the Wagener building to contemplate what would come next. He sat in his captain’s chair and watched through the giant arched windows of his office as his cotton left port and steamed across the harbor. George gasped in horror at the first plumes of smoke wafting from the ship’s cargo hold. A drunken sailor had fallen asleep with a lit pipe, igniting the last of George’s cotton, family fortune, and sanity. He pressed his face against the glass and screamed as sailors jumped from the ship, now in flames.

George had had enough. He methodically gathered the furniture of his office, and piled it in the corner of the room, with his captain’s chair perched on top. He stood precariously on the chair, while tossing a rope over the rafters. He slipped the noose over his head…and jumped! The next day, a young newsboy announced the demise of George Poirier with unintelligible screaming in the middle of East Bay Street. When passersby calmed him down, all he could do was point to the third floor of the Wagener Building. There, with the sun streaming through the windows, swung the hanging corpse of George Poirier. The newsboy was the second to find George’s body. Entering through an open window, the scavenger birds had gotten to him first.

The building was renovated several times since George Poirier’s death on the third floor. In the early 1980s, it was the East Bay Trading Company restaurant. There have been numerous accounts of paranormal activity in the building. Some have seen the shadow of a swinging corpse. Bar tenders have reported beer taps running, inexplicably. But these things are rather bland in comparison to what restaurant manager James McCallister witnessed in 1983.

One summer night, McCallister was closing up and the only remaining customers were a young bunch up on the third floor. They reported feeling a cold wind, and asked if McCallister could turn off the air conditioning. McCallister investigated, but found the air conditioning had been turned off for hours. He went to the third floor and over to a brick wall, where he found a frigid, “winter wind” that made the manufactured coolness of AC-produced air feel like a warm summer breeze. He ran his hand all over the wall, trying to find the wind’s source, without success. He turned to see the women sitting at the bar hunched, with their backs turned to him, shielding themselves from the icy air. Their long hair blew parallel to the bar. A flash of light blazed from the ceiling for an instant, but by the time McCallister looked up, he saw nothing. And that’s not even the weirdest thing that happened.

A few months later, the cold air again became a problem. Again, McCallister investigated and found nothing. The next morning, McCallister arrived to begin opening the restaurant. When he got to the third floor, his jaw dropped. All of the bar stools, chairs, and heavy tables were piled high in the corner. A captain’s chair sat atop the heap, slowly rocking back and forth. Just as McCallister stepped forward to begin dismantling the pile, the captain’s chair fell, shattering at McCallister’s feet. Today, the Wagener Building is home to the Southend Brewery restaurant.

U.S.S. Yorktown (Patriot's Point)

The USS Yorktown (CV-10) is an Essex class aircraft carrier that was named in commemoration of the sunken USS Yorktown (CV-5), which was destroyed during the Battle of Midway in 1942. Built in 1941 and first launched in 1943, she served in the Pacific Theater in WWII, earning eleven battle stars, and again in the Vietnam War, earning five more.

She’s a bit of a movie star, having been used in films like Tora! Tora! Tora! and the Philadelphia Experiment, in addition to the documentary The Fighting Lady. She was even a recovery ship for the Apollo 8 space mission.

The United States Navy donated the USS Yorktown to the Patriot’s Point Development Authority in 1974, and she is now part of the Patriot’s Point Naval & Maritime Museum located in Mount Pleasant—just across the Cooper River from downtown Charleston. In 1986, she was declared a National Historic Landmark.

She’s also allegedly haunted. The staff at the museum has witnessed all kinds of activity, including apparitions so clear that they were identifiable as members of the ship’s crew. Sightings have been reported by the museum staff, of course, but visitors and even police officers have seen all kinds of unexplained stuff. Weird things have been seen just about everywhere on the ship—on the hangar deck, the flight deck, the engine rooms, the restrooms, the officers’ staterooms, the weapons locker area—all over.

Recently, Mac Burdette, the Executive Director of the museum, asked The Atlantic Paranormal Society (T.A.P.S.) to investigate due to the sheer volume of activity experienced on the ship. But it was important that the investigation be conducted respectfully, with reverence to the individuals who served aboard the USS Yorktown. “We hold the men who served and died aboard the USS Yorktown in the highest esteem and we would never, ever do anything to disrespect their service,” he said.

T.A.P.S. investigated in February, 2012. What they experienced was pretty remarkable. With the museum closed, and all power to the ship turned off, the eight-person team split into pairs, and began searching the ship to confirm…or debunk…what was reported. Their full investigation aired on the SyFy Channel’s Ghost Hunters on May 2, 2012. The T.A.P.S. crew wasn’t disappointed. In addition to the expected unexplained noises, they caught full-body apparitions, conversations, laughter, even physical contact…and that was just in the first half of the episode. One of the specters was spotted on the flight deck where a plane had crashed, killing three crewmen.

Legend of Madame Talvande (Sword Gate House)

Several blocks from the busy commercial section of Charleston’s historic district, you can stroll through the residential streets and enjoy all of the charm and antebellum architecture the Holy City has to offer. If you’re fortunate and have the means to purchase one of those historical properties, you may encounter a previous occupant who refuses to leave.

The house at 32 Legare Street (pronounced “Lugree”), also known as the Sword Gate House, is a perfect example. This U-shaped, private residence was built in multiple stages in the early 19th century by German merchants, Jacob Steinmetz and Paul Emil Lorent. The central part of the house, which is a three-story structure that is one-room wide, was built around 1803. By 1818, Steinmetz and Lorent had added a brick wing that included an elegant ballroom, and a separate kitchen house. The famous gates of the house, made of wrought iron by the well-known iron manufacturer, Christopher Werner, are a rare find in Charleston, as most of the pre-Civil War iron was melted for artillery.

In 1819, the property was sold to André (now known as Andrew) Talvande. Talvande and his wife, Ann, were French colonial refugees who relocated from Saint-Domingue after its revolution. Shortly after, Ann Talvande opened Madame Talvande’s French School for Young Ladies. Affluent families sent their daughters to the exclusive school for a solid education and, more importantly, instruction from its strict headmistress on proper behavior for a lady. Ann Talvande was a fierce ally to the aristocratic families of Charleston, and they came to rely on her for the social growth of their daughters. Many girls walked the halls of the school, including Mary Boykin Chesnut, one of South Carolina’s most well-known authors.

In the 1820s, Colonel Joseph Whaley was a wealthy plantation owner on Edisto Island, a sea island just south of Charleston. His beautiful fifteen-year-old daughter, Maria, was sometimes lonely at Pine Baron, their plantation. She had few friends her own age. But as she entered her teen years, she had her share of suitors, though none were serious. None, that is, until she met George Morris.

Morris was from New York. He was a nice enough young man, but Col. Whaley still didn’t want his daughter seeing him. It wasn’t because he was a Yankee—this was decades before the ill-sentiment for Northerners was prevalent in the Lowcountry. It’s true that Charlestonians didn’t like Northerners. But they didn’t like other Southerners either. Col. Whaley’s dislike for George Morris was two-fold. First, he just wasn’t “one of them.” He wasn’t as affluent as the Whaleys, and that alone would have given a wealthy planter like Joseph Whaley serious pause. More importantly, it was Maria’s reaction to Morris that scared her father. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. She was falling deeply in love, and Mr. Whaley knew it. Though he tried over and over to keep the pair separated—even going so far as to ride his horse all over Edisto in an effort to persuade everyone to refuse Morris lodging—Maria and George always found a way to be together. In 1828, Col. Whaley had had enough. He ordered his daughter to pack her bags, and he, with this wife, drove Maria by carriage the 30 miles to Madame Talvande’s school.

Madame Talvande kept a close eye on all of her girls. But she also recognized the importance of exposing the young ladies to Charleston’s high society so they could gain the experience and charm that would be expected of them. Talvande sometimes held social gatherings and dances in the grand ballroom, where the girls could meet appropriate young men who were deemed eligible to court girls of such high social status. But Maria, though she made friends easily and enjoyed her new studies, never forgot her true love, George Morris. Within months, George found Maria, and they began to devise a plan for her escape.

On March 8, 1829, Maria scaled the high walls surrounding the school, and ran the few blocks to St. Michael’s Church at Broad and Meeting Streets. With only two witnesses, Reverend Frederick Dalcho officiated, and Maria Whaley and George Morris were wed. Maria returned to Madame Talvande’s school, sneaking back over the wall, and into bed. The next morning, George Morris went to the school and announced to Madame Talvande that he was there to pick up “Mrs. Morris.” Talvande, obviously confused, told Morris that she was the only married woman at the school, but George was undeterred. Talvande lined the girls up on the lawn, and introduced George Morris. She said, “He is here for his wife. Is there a Mrs. Morris present among us?” At first, the girls just looked at each other. Then, Maria Whaley stepped forward and said, simply, “Yes. I am.”

Maria and George then went to back to Edisto to break the news to the Colonel. He was understandably furious at first, but grew to love his new son-in-law, and welcomed him into the family. George and Maria apparently lived happily ever after on Grove Plantation. Madame Talvande however, didn’t fare so well. She was humiliated, and the public began to question her ability to keep the girls in line. It’s said that she constructed a high wall topped with broken glass bottles to deter other students who may have had similar plans for escape. In time, the people of Charleston forgave her, but she never forgave herself. The school remained open until 1849, and even though there were no other scandals, she believed her reputation was damaged forever.

It has been widely reported that Madame Talvande still roams the halls of the house at 32 Legare Street, now a private residence. Full-body apparitions have been seen on the top-floor piazza, scanning the grounds for would-be escapists. The spirit has also been seen floating along the upstairs hallways, peering into the bedrooms and keeping a watchful eye on her charges from long ago.