Fort Delaware, Very Alive

My sister and I wanted to have a ghostly experience around Halloween last year and we visited a supposedly haunted Civil War prison named Fort Delaware. To begin our adventure we had to take a ferry across the mouth of the river and past the marsh in order to get to Pea Patch Island.

I noticed our tour guide had on rubber boots. I hate getting my feet wet.

Taking my steps gingerly, I crossed the gangplank onto a dirt and tile walkway where the tread in my sneakers filled with squishy soil until we hit the well-kept lawn. Lovely, I thought to myself as I dragged my shoes across the grass to wipe off some of the mud.

I didn’t know what to expect tonight, but I was pretty sure my feet would be cold and wet.

When we arrived safely at our destination, our group of twelve assembled under a tent that protected us from the light rain. Our tour guide began, “Hi, I’m Jack and I’ll be one of your guides tonight.”

Jack isn’t from the Delaware Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Control or DENREC. He’s part of the Diamond State Ghost Investigators that partners with DENREC to give visitors a history lesson along with a glimpse into the paranormal world.

A full head taller than everyone in the group, Jack is dressed in a hunter green fleece pullover and jeans. His surfer dude bleached blond hair, golden brown tan and fit upper body was at odds with my idea of a ghost buster.

“Hello, I’m Gladys.” Once again, my preconceived notions are shot. She is not a Goth obsessed, black makeup wearing, woman. “I’m going to be the pest that keeps us moving along. Thank you for being here. A little about me, I’m from Bear, less than ten miles from here.”

Gladys is wearing waterproof Wellies and she looks to be in her mid-thirties with blond, permed and streaked hair. She had on the same pullover as Jack, with navy chinos that looked cute tucked into her dry boots.

“I’ve been documenting the existence of paranormal phenomena for ten years,” she began. “Right now, I’m about to defend my PhD dissertation in Parapsychology from the University of Virginia’s School of Medicine with critical research that came from Fort Delaware.”

Impressive credentials, I noted. She looked over to the third member of the team.

“And I’m Brad, bringing up the rear.” Brad tipped his hat to us. “I’m your DENREC historian who can answer questions about the engineering, construction, history, and lore of Fort Delaware. How is everyone tonight?”

The crowd waved or said felt great. He had a pleasant oval face, with medium skin, hair, and eyes. Actually, Brad’s unremarkable looking except for the contentment he conveyed. He looks like my idea of a spirit finder. Yet, he’s the engineer, I mused.

“Fort Delaware was conceived long before the Civil War began. During the War of 1812, the newly established Department of War saw the need for a military fortress to guard the mouth of the river and places like Philadelphia.” His brown eyes survey the crowd.

“A less grand version was envisioned in 1817 after a wooden one didn’t work out well.” He paused for a laugh. It didn’t land.

Brad goes on to talk about the obstacles the builders encountered and how this fortress was unlike any other. The reasons were numerous and I zoned out until we got to the part about the Civil War.

“We may never know exactly how many people died in Fort Delaware during the Civil War and its aftermath.” Brad’s voice becomes somber and he bows his head slightly.

“There were over thirteen thousand POWs incarcerated here at one time. Of those, twenty-four hundred souls died. We also have to include women who perished in childbirth and babies who succumbed to childhood diseases.”  

The gentle raindrops make me think of the buckets of tears that must have fallen for those who died in this sorrowful place.

Brad’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “By the time the prison was functional in 1860 it was considered the state-of-the-art prison for war criminals.”

I learned that throughout its construction the project suffered from setbacks that included a court-martial for poor building practices and concluded with a fire. I found it ironic that the prison held more Confederate soldiers than it ever did foreign POWs. It made me wonder if the original architect, Captain Delafield, ever imagined that the first prisoners held in his fort would be born on US soil.

Jack stepped in to speak. “As with most wars, there’s money to be made by someone.” Rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, he licked his lips. I noticed my sister’s eyebrow’s raised as she grinned a little lasciviously at his gestures. I made a note for future teasing.

“Fortunately it didn’t all go to the top three percent.” He paused and got a chuckle and flashed a brilliant smile. “This brick fortress provided a significant income to women in surrounding townships and hamlets.”

Jack pointed to a display with period reproductions of women photographed in stern poses. They once lived in Delaware City, near Pea Patch Island and made their living at Fort Delaware. DENREC had meticulously matched the photos with records and created small biographies for each of them. I hoped we’d be given a chance to get a view into their lives at some point.

“On a daily basis, scores of staff washed laundry, cooked, cleaned, nursed, and tutored the children residing here. Their stories are hidden within the stone walls of this gray, granite medieval fortress. I’ve even heard the cries of the dying here.”

My sister senses my eyeroll and nudges me. Sitting in my chair I keep my latest observation to myself and refocus my attention on Jack.

“One man, whose soul has seen no rest, walks these brick cellars looking for the brother he promised his mother he’d take care of, but has yet to find him.” 

With a move that looked kind of like he was demonstrating high-end cars at the auto show, Jack smiles again and motions to Gladys.

“That’s right. You may see him walking the halls of the prison cell where he died looking for his brother.” Her compassion filled the room.

“These are the tools we’ll use to detect spirits tonight.” She held up a few L-shaped metal bars called dowsing rods and a presence detector that looked like an old fashioned remote.

“Let’s hope the spirits want to share their evening with you. It isn’t always the case. If that happens, try not to react negatively. Keep your conversation to a minimum. You’re guests in their space, remember that.”

The tools disappeared into a dark velvet shoulder bag. “Once we get inside, I’ll demonstrate how to use these. I hope that you will not only learn about life in Fort Delaware when it was at its busiest, but also experience the unfinished business of those souls who live here.” Gladys was a good teacher who knew how to keep the lecture short and sweet.

Jack signaled for us to rise from our seats. “Everybody ready?”

We exited the tent with Brad in the lead. “We’re going to briefly walk through the artillery magazines that held cannon and gunpowder.” His gait was perfect for those of us with short legs.

“When the Civil War turned and Union victory was assured, these areas were converted into cells. It was drafty, and naturally a breeding ground for diseases like tuberculosis.”

The group moved into one of the large brick rooms set off with graceful wide arches and portholes that could house cannons. Brad talked about the medical care that awaited the young men unfortunate enough not to die on the battlefield.

As he spoke my shoulders droop, giving way to the heaviness that blanketed the air. It’s easy to imagine the horrors our nation went through not so long ago. I said a silent prayer for the souls who died here.

“Pull out your phones and start taking photos or videos,” Jack said quietly with a low husky voice. “If there are any spirits here you won’t see them with the naked eye. They’ll show up as blue dots on your camera’s image gallery.”

Immediately we all pulled out our phones and we hear the click, click, click of happy fingers searching for blue orbs. The flashes going off made the prison cells look like a disco from the 1980s. Because the light was bothering my eyes, I retreated into a corner near the doorway and waited until we were ready to move to the next stop.

“We’re visiting the officer’s residences through the servant’s entrance. Only officers, visitors, and immediate family members were allowed through the main entrance. Careful, the steps are narrow.”

Jack leads us up a stairwell that goes into another section of the fort that’s on the third floor. As people in my group passed, I snuck glances at their photos and was gobsmacked. There must have been six or eight blue lights of the same size but different intensities randomly grouped together in the corners. In most of them was a single blue light in the middle of the room.

When I look at my own photos, I see three glowing circles in the upper right corner, and one alone in the center. That’s pretty convincing evidence of something paranormal. Then I ask myself, is it possible there were spirits lurking about? Or could our cameras make it happen? The blue lights offered a compelling argument. The melancholy of the space and dense air was undeniable.

“I wonder if that’s the soldier looking for his brother?” I ask. My sister shot her signature, I’m right, I told you so, look. I shrugged and moved up the stairs in front of Brad.

We crowded into the tiny nursery where Gladys positioned herself in the center of the room. “This is where nannies and parents cared for the officers families and staff stationed at Fort Delaware.” She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder.

“I waited to bring these out until we showed you the nursery. One of the commandants had a wife and two children. All of them contracted scarlet fever and died shortly after moving into the grand fort.”

Pulling out the spirit detector hand held devices, Gladys randomly handed them out.

“It would have been around this time of night when the Commander and his wife could spend time together as a family. Imagine the sweet images of the couple holding thier children as they rocked back and forth until they fall into a deep sleep.”

Gladys checked her device. It was functioning. “Now you all know why I was adamant about staying on track tonight. Sometimes this is the most active place in the fort.”

Holding up a remote Gladys instructed, “on the bottom left is a power button. Once you switch it on, you’ll see a red light.”

Jack had his remote, turned it on, and began moving his around the room. The red light wasn't changing.

“As you can see, Jack is slowly, I repeat, slowly, scanning the room. If there is a presence here tonight, your lights will turn green. Mutliple scanners may go off at the same time, and you can also use your phones.”

It was a slow night in the nursery and the detectors were a dud. A crestfallen Gladys returned them to her bag.

“This happens sometimes. I’m sorry.” Gladys made no excuses for our dispirited spirits.

She then pulled out the L-shaped dowsing rods and handed them to several people before turning to Jack who had his own set. “Here are a few simple rules to follow to get the best results. Hold the rod by the short end by your thumb and the first two finger. Three, if you have small hands.”

Jack demonstrated the technique. “Ask simple questions quietly. You should not move the rods. If there is a spirit present and they want to acknowledge you, they will turn it for you.” He looked around watching some of the rods obviously being twirled and closed his eyes slowly in disappointment.

Brad cleared his throat. “I can faithfully say, something I’ve learned about experiences here, is that respect matters.”

“Thanks for that Brad.” Jack turned to those of us not holding anything. “If the rods are being moved, take a picture. Genuine shots will have the same blue circles we saw in the artillery room photos.”

The rods started pointing to pieces of furniture and toys. We saw a rocking chair move. A million flashes later I heard, “All right, let’s see what you have, folks.”

Jack’s tone was tinged with excitement about the prospect of converting a few doubters tonight.

Nada.

Not even a hint of ice blue among the photos taken.

“Looks like Gladys was right. Sometimes they just aren’t here.” His rubber boots lumbered down the steep stairs as he led us to the dining rooms, kitchen, and laundry rooms.

I turned to my sister, “No wonder the nursery was a bust. I sure wouldn’t entertain us. Would you want to be around a bunch of people who are going to ask you sad questions?”

“Oh, so now you’re making excuses for them not being around. Are you sure you don’t believe in ghosts?”

“Saying, I don’t believe, implies faith. I’m an empiricist. Show me facts. Thus far, I have seen some evidence that’s interesting. Nothing conclusive.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t participate. Next room, you take the dowsing rods and see for yourself, Ms. Empiricist.”

Sisters.

In addition to being a prison, Fort Delaware was built to be a fortress that could withstand long sieges and was scaled accordingly. After the endless five-minute walk to the other end of the building, we reached the wing of the fort that housed the kitchens, laundry rooms and one of the many dining rooms for inmates. Brad explained how modern and efficient the facility was for its time.

It made me grateful for having been born in the age of washing machines and indoor plumbing.

Gladys led the economics discussion involving Fort Delaware. “In Delaware City, most of the men were Union soldiers fighting in the war. It left women responsible for keeping the town alive while running households. Because of the prison, the town thrived. The most money to be made, was as a cook or laundress.”

Anyone could see that Gladys liked this part of the story, her eyes shined even in the dim light. She walked over to a photograph of Edgar Allen Poe and picked up a book of his poetry.

“We found this among some items in a box at an estate sale. It belonged to a laundress named Kitty Hickman who worked here from 1860 until she retired. Legend has it that she entertained coworkers by reading when her wash was soaking.”

Gladys prompts us to join her as she quotes, The Raven. I happen to know it by heart and recited the first two versus with her. I think to myself, what a nice coincidence. My sister gets Gladys’ attention and beckons her over.

“Do you mind if she gets a turn with the rods?” My sibling points at me and nod bashfully.

“We’re a little short on time.” Gladys turned to the group. “Hey everyone, do you mind if just one person holds the rods in this room? It’s all we have time for.”

Everyone agreed and in no time I was properly outfitted. Gladys reminded me that I needed to gently hold the rods, they moved by themselves. I nodded and assumed the thumb and two-finger hold Jack demonstrated earlier.

“Okay, now you get to ask the questions. Be respectful. Don’t demand. Yes, no questions work best. Start with them both in the middle. Right means yes. Left means no.”

“Got it. Hello Spirits. Thank you for allowing us to come into your world. Are you here?”

My rod moved to the right. “That’s a yes,” said Jack cautiously.

“Oh." I wasn't expecting that. "Wow. Thank you, Spirit.”

Then the thing snapped back, stopping abruptly in the center.

“Spirit, are you a woman?” A second yes.

“Thank you. Are you a laundress?” That's three. I thought to myself, there must be WD-40 on the rods to make them move like that.

“Are you married?” She said no.

“Are you a widow?” No again.

For some comic relief I said, “Well you’re not missing anything, men are a mess.”

The rods split apart and started bouncing off my forearms. The crowd went wild.

There were lots of, oh my God, look at that! Two or three, I’ve never seen that before. And one, it looks like she’s hugging you.

To be honest, I know I felt something slide along my sleeves. It wasn’t cold or clammy, more like a cool, soft touch for a few seconds and then it was gone.

Gladys and Jack came up to me, breathless. Simultaneously they remarked on the reaction I got and how much the Spirit liked what I said. I said something about everyone liking a laugh. Inside, I was thrilled.

Then my sister showed me her pictures. My left arm was covered by blue orbs that looked as if a person was holding my forearm and laughing with me!

“What a fantastic way to end our tour. I still can’t believe what we saw." Shaking her head in amazement Gladys continued, "there is hot mulled cider and cookies in the tent for you. We leave in fifteen minutes.”

Then Jack paused and his eyes filled with tears. “It’s telling that tonight spirits were happy to share intimate moments with you. You were obviously welcomed here.”

My world view had changed completely and I don’t remember anything about the state of my feet.