A Hunters Return

James Heyward had two loves in life, his books, and hunting. James’ father was killed in the Revolutionary War, and his mother was disappointed when James, her eldest son, took no interest in running the family’s rice plantation.

1800s Rice Plantation S.C.

At the end of the war, the widow Heyward had a refined 2-story house built on the fashionable Legare Street in Charleston, South Carolina. She loved to entertain friends, and her children often came to visit.

One early morning in January of 1805, she went into the home’s library. There as usual sat James in an alcove. He was hunched over, holding his head in his hands.

The widow concerned approached the table. She asked him why he had not left yet. He had informed her the night before that he and friends were going to leave Charleston early the next morning to go quail hunting at the family plantation.

When she received no response, she asked, “James, are you ill?” She watched as her son just faded away.

Now certain what she had seen was a bad omen she sent for a servant. She demanded this man go to the plantation immediately and see if something was amiss with the hunting party.

However, before this servant could leave, there was a commotion on the front porch. The door swung open, and a group of plantation workers entered, carrying the lifeless body of James Heyward—his grieving friends, trailed behind.

They told the widow as they had galloped across a field that morning a cow had startled James’ horse. He was thrown and killed instantly.

At the precise moment of his death Mrs. Heyward had seen and spoken to her son in the library.

Library window.

It has been over two hundred years since this tragic accident, but James’ ghost still makes appearances in the Legare Street home’s library.

Fourteen families have lived in this home since the widow Heyward had it first built-in 1789. Several of these residents have claimed to see James’ ghost.

He is seen wearing his green riding coat and reading a book in the alcove. At other times he is seen gazing out the window toward where the family’s plantation once stood.

This residence at 31 Legare Street has 7 bedrooms and 9 baths. The home is almost 7,000 square feet in size and is valued at $1.2 million. The owners’ wish is that everyone respects their privacy.

Haunted Poogan’s Porch

Poogan's Porch

This restaurant is located at 72 Queen Street in Charleston, South Carolina. This establishment is known for its delicious southern cuisine and two ghosts.

Poogan’s Porch is named after a friendly little neighborhood stray dog that often landed on the home’s porch looking for food. Bobbie Ball, who bought the charming home to turn it into a restaurant, fell in love with Poogan and adopted him.

When her restaurant opened in 1976 Poogan was there to greet the first customers. He past away in 1979 and is buried in the front yard. His picture is displayed in the restaurant, and a statue of him sits next to his grave.

Customers often stop at his final resting place to pay their respects.

A wishful legend about his ghost states that diners and employees looking out one front window see him. He sits on the front porch in his favorite spot, waiting patiently for attention or some food.

The other ghost at Poogan’s Porch is more than a legend and appears often.

  Elizabeth and Zoe

The charming Victorian house where this restaurant is located was built in the late 1800s. At the turn of the century, two sisters moved in. Zoe and Elizabeth St. Amand were spinsters who stayed to themselves, preferring each other’s company.

Zoe was a schoolteacher who looked the part. She wore long black Puritan-style dresses, and round, wide-brimmed glasses.

When Elizabeth passed away, it devastated Zoe. She became even more reclusive, and her mental state deteriorated. Neighbors became concerned when they heard her calling her sister’s name constantly.

They finally took her to St. Francis Hospital where she remained until her death in 1954. But it appears her ghost returned to her home on Queen Street.

There are numerous accounts of people who have encountered her spirit, including employees and the owner.

A male chef opening the restaurant placed his coffee cup on the stairs as he went to open the back door for food deliveries. When he returned, his cup was gone.

He made himself another cup and returned to find his original cup on the stair where he left it, but now it had a faint line of lipstick on its brim.

Zoe is often seen late at night, or late in the evening when there are not many customers left in the old home.

A cleaner vacuuming a rug around midnight got the overwhelming feeling she was being watched. She glanced into a mirror and saw the face of an elderly woman wearing black looking at her—this image faded away and then returned to just fade away again.

A pastry chef while in the restaurant alone around midnight was working in the kitchen while playing her music. Suddenly, she heard footsteps running up the stairs.

She investigated, but no one was there. She went back to her work and started to sing along with a favorite song. At one point, another voice joined her.

She looked around, expecting to see a fellow worker, but she was alone. Again she investigated, but no one was in the house with her, and the alarm was set.

The owner of the restaurant, Bobbie Ball, was closing the restaurant one evening—as she went to set the alarm, she heard bulky wooden stools being flipped over, and several doors slam open. She was alone in the building when this happened.

Customers have also encountered Zoe’s ghost.

Often when Zoe’s ghost is seen the witnesses at first do not realize she is a ghost.

Several female patrons have encountered an odd elderly lady in the restroom. They did not realize until they saw a picture of Zoe that hangs on one wall in the restaurant, that they had seen a ghost.

One female customer struck up a conversation with Zoe, when it dawned on her she was speaking to a ghost she ran screaming from the restaurant.

Guests who have stayed at the Mills House Hotel across the street from Pagan’s Porch have also reported seeing Zoe’s ghost.

As they looked out their windows at the night skyline of Charleston, they spotted an elderly lady dressed in black waving at them from a second-floor window in the restaurant.

Two of these guests, knowing the restaurant was closed, became concerned that the woman they spotted was locked in. They both called the police. When the officers arrived, they found the restaurant locked, alarmed, and no one inside.

Hurricane’s Grey Man, Part ll

So is the Grey Man just a whimsical legend? Does he actually appear to warn of impending hurricanes?

The residents of Pawley’s Island off the coast of South Carolina would firmly state he does exist. Shortly before each hurricane that has hit this island, in the last 200 years, at least one resident has seen this harbinger ghost.

Here are just a few of these eyewitness accounts.

In anticipation of an impending hurricane, one tenet farmer was herding animals when he encountered the Grey Ghost in October of 1893.

He spoke to the figure not realizing he was a ghost. “Hey mister you better follow me off the island, there is a storm brewing tonight.” When he received no response he continued, “I say follow me off the island there’s going to be a storm tonight.”

When he still received no reply he shouted at the man, “Are you crazy man, do what you want.”

When the next day’s hurricane blew right past his home and the plantation owners’ home without touching them, he realized that it was the Grey Man he had spoken to.

Genevieve Peterkin, a long-time resident of Georgetown County, states those who see the Grey Man before a hurricane are protected as well as their property.

She has heard many stories over the years. She states they are always reported in the local newspaper. Her favorite story happened in 1954.

A neighbor of hers in Georgetown owned a summer home on Pawley’s Island. He saw the Grey Ghost just before Hurricane Hazel blew in.

Pawley Island beach.

His home was so protected, that beach towels left hanging on his porch railing, were still there after the storm. Most of the properties around his were completely destroyed.

Peterkin states, she would not have believed this if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. She feels people who see the Grey Man are truly blessed.

At midnight on September 22, 1989, Hurricane Hugo after laying waste to the Caribbean slammed into the coast of South Carolina.

Its winds hit speeds of 135 mph. Thousands were forced to flee their homes. In South Carolina alone there was over 5 Billion dollars in damage.

Over 9,000 homes were destroyed. Practically every structure on Pawley’s Island was demolished.

Jim Moore, a resident of the island recounts that Pawley looked like a giant dump pile. Chairs, coaches and iceboxes were piled up in the middle of roads.

Even though Moore’s entire neighborhood was destroyed his home was virtually untouched. His wife Clara, “was happy to find everything just as she had left it.”

Several weeks after Hugo hit, residents of the island started to wonder what had happened to the Grey Man.

Jim and Clara read a headline in their local paper announcing, "The Grey Man Failed To Appear.”

This jarred their memory. Two days before Hugo struck, the couple had a strange encounter.

The Moore’s habit was to take a walk along the beach every afternoon. During their walk two days before Hugo struck, they only saw one other person on the beach.

Jim waved and then greeted this stranger but as he did so this man who had been walking toward them just vanished.

Clara taken aback questioned Jim. “Where did he go?” At the time Jim had no response. He could not explain the fact that the man was there one minute and then the next he was gone.

After reading the headline it dawned on the Moore’s why their home had been spared--the man who had disappeared right in front of them was the Grey Man.

Here is an article by the Coastal Observer, a newspaper on the island, about the Grey Man.

In Part l of Hurricane’s Grey Man, one story about the origin of the Grey Man is shared.

The Hermitage’s Alice Flagg

The Hermitage

This ghost story like many is about a forbidden love.

A New Home

Dr. Allard Flagg in the late The 1840s moved into his new home--The Hermitage--located on Murrell’s Inlet in South Carolina.

Dr. Allard and his brother Dr. Arthur quickly became affluent members of the Lowcountry. Both men started to court two wealthy sisters.

Allard's mother and his 16-year old sister, Alice Flagg came to live with him.

Alice was a pretty girl with long thick auburn hair. Her dark brown eyes sparkled when she talked. She quickly fell in love with Murrell’s Inlet.

On a shopping trip to town Alice met a young lumberman. The two met several more times and fell in love.

But when this young man came to The Hermitage to court Alice Dr. Allard met him in the garden. Deeming him to be of low station the doctor immediately sent him away.

Her mother agreed that the young man was an inappropriate match for her daughter.

Alice hearing her young man was sent away was angered. Her brother and mother insisted she not see him again.

Alice Flagg 1834-1849

Alice defying their wishes began to meet her lover in secret. The two became engaged.

Alice fought with her family over what she perceived as their tyrannical stance but they would not budge.

Dr. Flagg seeing a plain gold ring on her finger now demanded that she return the ring and forget about this young man.

Alice instead tied the ring to a ribbon and wore it concealed around her neck.

A Change of Scenery

Dr. Allard sent Alice to live in Charleston in a boarding school. It was his wish his sister find a suitor with the proper social standing.

Alice hated Charleston with its pretentious society, she continued to wear her lovers’ ring around her neck.

Although she missed Murrell’s Inlet, she finally adjusted to her new circumstances. But she still grieved for her lost love.

Within months she fell ill with malaria. Her brother was sent for. He despite her delirious state placed her in a carriage and quickly took her home.

By the following morning Alice’s condition had worsened. She desperately clutched at the ring that hung around her neck.

Sadly, she did not survive the morning. Her family had her dressed in a favorite long white dress. When the ring was discovered it was thrown into a nearby marsh.

Alice was buried in All Saints Cemetery near Pawley’s Island. A plain marble slab marks her grave--one word is simply engraved on it--Alice.

Haunted Hermitage and Grave

Since her death, many have claimed to see Alice’s ghost. She is seen wearing the long white dress she was buried in.

She has been spotted walking through the entrance door to The Hermitage and she is also seen wondering around the All Saints Cemetery.

Witnesses state she clutches at something on her chest. Many believe she is looking for her lost ring.

One group of young people standing near Alice’s grave experienced this haunting first hand. One of the girls' ring suddenly flew off her hands--which shock everyone.

To add to this mystery, this ring had been stuck on her finger for some time because of a weight gain.

The group spent hours looking for it before they finally found it.

Every year many tourists visit her grave and The Hermitage. They follow a ritualistic tradition--they bring flowers and small tokens in hopes of helping Alice forget her broken heart.

There are several versions of this story told in other parts of the U.S. They all reflect the region they are told in.

The Hermitage today.

Boone Hall: The Sunset Ghost

The Avenue of Oaks

Boone Hall Plantation was established in 1681. It was given as a land grant to Major John Boone. It originally was 17,000 acres, today it is located in the Mount Pleasant suburb near Charleston, South Carolina. The plantation first was used to grow rice and later cotton.

Two brothers, John and Henry Horlbeck, bought this plantation in 1817. They converted the back of the farm near the Wampancheone Creek into the Horlbeck Brickyard.

The soil near this creek contains clay that is ideal for making earthenware, bricks, and tiles. The Horlbeck’s brickyard quickly evolved from a few kilns used by some of the plantation’s 225 slaves into a thriving enterprise that served all of Charleston.

In the decade before the Civil War, it is estimated that the brother’s brickyard produced 4 million bricks each year. The plantation’s slaves made all of these bricks by hand.

Most of the buildings and churches that still remain standing in downtown Charleston today were made with bricks from the Horlbeck Brickyard. The slave quarters on this plantation were also made from these bricks.

Slave cabins along  Slave Street

The Horlbeck brother’s had large pecan groves planted on their land-- this is the reason why Boone Hall is one of the last remaining active plantations in America today.

In 1843, they also planted a spectacular mile-long drive called The Avenue of Oaks that leads to the entrance.

The Ghost of a Slave

Brick Kiln

Witnesses today, report seeing a strange sight near the creek and one of the brickyard’s kiln chimneys.

At sunset, these witnesses all describe seeing a strange woman standing in the grass nearby the road. She is seen moving her hands in a repetitive thrusting motion. *

She wears ragged dark clothes, and her face is tilted downward toward her jerking hands. Because of this, no one has ever seen her face for her loose hair covers it.

Many witnesses have stated they saw the pale light of dusk pass right through this figure. Since she is always seen in the same area, it is believed that she is the ghost of a slave that worked at the 18th-century brickyard. 

* The above sightings are a classic example of a residual haunting.

Charleston’s Embittered Ghost

In 1809 the Planter’s Hotel first opened on Church Street in Charleston, South Carolina. This building was originally the home of the Dock Street Theatre, in 1736, which was the first structure built in the United States specifically for the performing arts.

At one time the Planter’s Hotel was the most luxurious hotel in Charleston. It provided drinking, gambling, and girls for its exclusive wealthy male clients.

The following story and haunting occurred as a result of a tragedy that is still told today. The activity has never ceased.

Nellie Dickerson moved to Charleston from South Carolina’s upcountry in 1840. She was attracted to Charleston’s’ sophistication and society. She held high hopes of finding a wealthy husband.

But Nellie’s dreams were shattered quickly.

Nellie was smart and pretty, but she was neither educated nor wealthy. Her age was yet another barrier. The average age for a female to marry at the time was 17, so Nellie at age 25 was considered a spinster.

Disillusioned, Nellie found there were plenty of men who were willing to take her as a mistress but none wanted to marry her.

Depressed, Nellie took work as a clerk at St. Philips on Church Street. This position provided room and board and a small amount for clothes but nothing else. The only bright spot in her life was the friendship she formed with the church’s priest.

St.Philips 

She would watch gloomily as Charleston’s wealthy elite men escorted their high society wives into this church every Sunday.

To relieve her bitterness she would climb to the top of the Church’s bell tower during thunderstorms and scream out her frustrations.

She could see the Planter’s Hotel that was just down the street from where she stood. She watched as these same highly regarded church-going men partook of the delights at the Planter’s Hotel every weekend.

Her bitterness grew as she realized she would never be regarded with the same esteem that was given to these men by Charleston’s high society.

One day under protest from the priest, she quit her position at St. Philips. Shortly after she entered the Planter’s Hotel wearing a fancy red dress. Being both attractive and witty, it wasn’t long before Nellie became one of the hotel’s most popular prostitutes.

Nellie continued to attend church on Sundays. She was noticed for the first time but for the wrong reason. Many of the wives started to sneer at her. Nellie not shy confronted these women face to face and went out of her way to compliment them on their choice of husbands.

But these public humiliations backfired because most of Nellie’s best customers started to shun her.

Nellie broke once more, went out on her second-floor balcony at the Planters during a thunderstorm. She was heard ranting and raving incoherently. Her one and only friend, the priest from St. Phillips, was summoned to the Planters Hotel to help.

He saw Nellie clutching the balcony’s railing shouting at the top of her lungs. He tried to talk to her, but she looked down upon him with vacant eyes. Before he could enter the hotel, a bolt of lightning struck Nellie, killing her instantly.

Renovated Dock Street Theatre

After this terrible accident, it appears Nellie never left the second floor where she died. In the 1930s, the Dock Street Theatre reopened in this building.

Over the years, several stage performers have seen Nellie’s ghost gliding around the second floor. She still wears her favorite red gown with a plunging neckline.

She is described as having lost her looks, but it is s, aid her eyes are what most witnesses notice first. They wildly stare at the living. This wild gaze has scared more than one person over the years.

Most witnesses have reported that they didn’t see her legs below the knee. A possible reason for this is during a renovation in 1936, the second story floor was raised by 12 inches. So she is probably just walking on the original floor.

Others while walking along Church Street have reported seeing the figure of a woman wearing an old fashioned red gown, standing on the second-floor balcony between two windows near where Nellie was struck.

Nellie’s ghost makes sporadic appearances, but it seems she always returns. As recently as 2008, the foreman in charge of the theatre’s renovations reported seeing Nellies ghost early in the morning each day as he reported for work.

The Black Umbrella

One well-known African American ghost tale that is often retold is “Wait Until Martin (Emmet) Comes”. Black slaves in the southern United States originally shared this story before the Civil War. In a future post, I will discuss the rich African American oral tradition this story represents. Another less known African America ghost folktale from South Carolina is about a black umbrella. This tale takes place in the early 1930s.

“The living may forget the dead, but the dead never forget.”

One rainy afternoon as an elderly housekeeper went about her work she heard a mournful song being sung in a nearby cemetery. She grabbed her coat and crossed the road. She loved to sing in her church choir, and she was proud of her voice. Despite the rain, she felt compelled to join the mourners.

As she approached the grave she heard them singing:

“No more rain gonna wet you—

No more…

No more cold gonna chill you—

No more…

Oh lord, I wanna go home—
Go home...

Bring me home…”

The mourners continued to sing even when the wind picked up, and the rain came down harder. A tall male mourner dressed all in black with pale features approached the housekeeper. He handed her a black umbrella stating that a beautiful voice like hers should not get wet.

Eventually, the preacher who faced the grave offered a prayer and ended with a resounding “Amen”. The housekeeper bowed her head for a moment to offer her own silent prayer but when she looked up confusion overtook her. She looked around, but all the mourners were gone. The cemetery now was completely silent.

The sun was out, and the earth at her feet was dry. Scared she hurried back across the street. As she entered her employers’ house, she realized that she was still holding the black umbrella. She placed it in the corner of the entryway and returned to her work. Later that day as she left the lady of the house called out to her, “Betsy, you left your umbrella.”

She kept on walking and never looked back.

Edisto Island: Buried Alive

The South has many dark tales of hauntings. For years it has been stated the following tale is true. 

In the mid 19^th century Edisto Island located an hour south of Charleston, South Carolina was dotted with cotton plantations. It was said this island produced the best cotton in the South.

Unfortunately, the island also was a breeding ground for what at the time was one of the most feared diseases in America, Diphtheria. This disease was particularly deadly because most of its victims were children. 

Edisto Island is mostly wetlands and its dense, hot, muggy weather in combination with stagnant water helped spread this disease.

One wealthy cotton planter and his family, a wife, daughter, and son lived near the northern coast on the island. There was a breeze in this area, but his daughter one summer became ill. 

The slaves that cared for her panicked for her symptoms, a sore throat, and a high fever meant one thing to them-Diphtheria.

Over the next several days the father watched, helplessly as his daughter’s condition worsened. 

Diphtheria is an insidious disease that causes a person’s throat to swell—known as bull neck—it literally kills its victims by strangulation. Feeling helpless, the planter watched his daughter slowly die from suffocation.

On the island when a person died, it was imperative they were buried right away for the heat sped up the decomposition of the body. 

An important note in this story is the family waited several days for a close family relative to arrive before placing the daughter’s body in the family crypt. 

The stench from bodies during this period was so unbearable that people took “nosegays” with them to funerals, not to honor the deceased but instead to help them bear the smell.

Because of the delay, the father could not find anyone to help with his daughter's body, so he carried her body himself to the family crypt. 

The family was so grief-stricken they did not take note of the fact that the young girl’s body appeared as fresh as it was while she was alive. The planter placed her on a slab within the crypt and shut and locked the door.  

Ten years passed and the son, now a young man, went off with his regiment to fight in the Civil War. His parents were very proud, but tragically like so many other soldiers, he was sent back to them in a pine box. 

The family once again gathered at the crypt to say farewell to their son. But as they opened the crypt door, another nightmare awaited them.

To their horror the family found the bones of their daughter on the floor near the door. The bones of her fingers were shattered and frayed. The father discovered deep scratch marks on the door. 

Finally, remembering the state of his daughter’s body as he placed her on the slab, he now understood she was still alive, but he had sealed her fate when he locked the crypt door.

It appeared she had woken out of an apparent coma and crawled across the floor in the dark tomb attracted by the only light—which passed through the door’s keyhole. She had dug small holes in the door in her attempts to get out. 

People came forward and mentioned they had heard screams the day after the girl was placed in the crypt, but since they seemed a far way off, they ignored them.

Even today the crypt
has no door. 

This story doesn’t end here for several days after the family placed the son’s coffin in the crypt, the door, which had once more been locked, was discovered open ajar. Not thinking anything about it the family re-locked it. 

But the door was found standing open a few days later. This time the family sealed the door tightly. Within a few days, the door was wide open again. 

A friend of the family was enlisted to help seal and lock the door permanently; afterward, he assured the family that the door would now remain closed.

But the family was told a week later that the door was off its hinges and lying on the ground. At this point, the family had the door embedded into the floor of the crypt and then they had the remains of their family members buried.

This crypt is still near the woods behind the Edisto Presbyterian Church, which was established in the 1830s. Recent witnesses state that the scratch marks are still on the embedded door.

The Ghost of Theodosia Burr Alston

Theodosia Burr or Theo as she was called was Aaron Burr’s only daughter. 

Burr, an influential political figure in the early 1800s, was a doting parent. He made sure Theo was educated beyond what most young ladies of the time were offered. She was allowed to study music, languages, philosophy, and politics. 

Theo was also charming and very beautiful. 

When her mother passed away from cancer, Theo was more than prepared to take over as her father’s hostess, at Richmond Hall, the family home in Albany.

Prominent figures of the time, as well as hopeful young suitors, attended the dinners that Theo hosted. Theo had her pick of eligible bachelors, but to everyone’s surprise, Theo married Joseph Alston. 

Joseph was a southern gentleman who had inherited his families’ wealth. 

Alston came from a very different world from the high society that Theo was used to. Burr, unlike most, was delighted with his daughter’s choice. He admired Alston’s political ambitions.

Theo and Alston on their way south, to the Carolina Lowcountry in February of 1801, stopped to see Aaron Burr inaugurated, as Thomas Jefferson’s vice president. 

Joseph Alston had attended Princeton and passed the bar at the age of twenty, but he didn’t practice law. 

Part of his inheritance was a large rice plantation called “The Oaks” in South Carolina. This is where he brought Theo after they were married. 

Theo helped manage The Oaks and several other properties Alston owned, but the hot, humid southern climate did not agree with her. Though she loved her husband, she missed her father and the beauty of the Hudson River Valley.

The distress she felt being separated from her father increased as Burr became embroiled in two political scandals. 

The first involved a bitter political rivalry he had with Alexander Hamilton, which resulted in a duel in which Burr killed him in 1804. Burr was arrested for murder but later was acquitted. 

Theo rushed to be at her father’s side during this time. 

The second scandal revolved around some shady land schemes Burr was involved in. Burr left for Europe in a self-imposed exile.

Theo’s health was in a frail condition when she gave birth to a son in 1802. It was a rough delivery, and Theo never managed to completely recover. 

Joseph and Theo named their son Aaron Burr Alston, they were very devoted parents, making sure their son had the best of everything. 

Theo often wrote letters to her father about her son's progress, this and news about her husbands’ political successes kept Burr interested. He usually replied to her messages with political advice for his son-in-law.

It was during this period that Theo’s life brightened, but then another tragedy struck. 

Theo and her husband each summer would move to their summer home “The Castle” on Dubordieu Beach, to escape the rice plantations’ oppressive heat and swamps. 

Early in the summer of 1812 two weeks after they arrived young Aaron, now ten years old, and already ill with tropical fever (malaria) died. Theo was inconsolable.

Burr heard of his grandson’s death as he returned to New York. He encouraged Theo to visit him over the holidays. Theo desperately wanted to but her husband, now governor of South Carolina, felt the trip would be too dangerous. 

He was concerned about her health, and the fact that American was again at war with Britain (War of 1812). 

There were also rumors that pirates were active off the Carolina Outer Banks. Despite these dangers, Theo won out, and Joseph reluctantly wrote her a letter to the British Navy requesting safe passage.

Theo said her last goodbye to her husband, while they waited in a warm warehouse in Georgetown, near the wharf where she was to embark. 

She boarded the schooner “Patriot” in December of 1812 anticipating the six-day trip north. Joseph having important business regretted that he could not make the voyage with her. 

The Patriot never made it to New York. Theo's disappearance remains a mystery.

The Patriot did encounter a British vessel, her second day out, and Joseph’s letter worked for the British let the ship pass. 

That night a strong winter gale swept across Cape Hatteras known as the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.” Some speculate the Patriot was lost in this storm. 

There is also evidence that the Patriot might have been a victim of pirates or “wreckers." Wreckers are people who plunder a ship after it has foundered near to or close to shore.

In 1833, an Alabama newspaper reported a confessed pirate admitted that he had participated in the plunder, and murder of all on board the Patriot at Nags Head. 

Fifteen years later, another former pirate, “Old Frank” Burdick confessed a similar story on his deathbed. 

His description included how he had held a plank for a pretty woman in a white dress. Before she plunged to her death, she begged someone send word to her husband and father. 

Burdick stated they then plundered the ship and abandoned her under full sail. He also said he saw a portrait of a woman in white in the main cabin.

Further evidence came to light in Nags Head to support the above stories.

An ill patient, too poor to pay her doctor, offered instead a portrait her husband’s family had given her as a gift. 

When the doctor questioned her possession of the portrait, she admitted to him that her in-laws were wreckers and they had plundered a ship they found abandoned after a gale. It sails were fully set, with no one aboard.

She stated that her relatives had found a woman’s belongings strewn about the main cabin, and amidst this, they had found the portrait. 

It is not known if Theo left Georgetown with a portrait. It did not surface until after her husband Joseph Alston had died. But many feel this is a possibility. For the picture could have been intended as a gift for her father. 

Years after the doctor was given the portrait, a descendant of the Burr’s came forward and immediately identified it as a picture of Theo.

Whatever her fate, Theo’s uneasy spirit appears to still roam some of the locations where she was most happy and sad in life.  

Her ghost has been spotted in South Carolina’s Lowcountry. 

She is observed pacing near the warehouse in Georgetown Harbor, where she said goodbye to her husband before she boarded the Patriot. 

Others have seen her strolling along the strand near Alston’s summer home-- The Castle at Dubordieu Beach--her head bent in sorrow. 

Some have described seeing her on foggy nights floating above the waves at Huntington Beach—once called Theaville in her honor.

Her spirit is also seen walking the paths, and descending the rice island steps near her husband’s plantation, The Oaks. 

Today this plantation, combined with three other rice plantations, make up what is called Brookgreen Garden. This spot is a popular tourist attraction.