According to Guthrie’s book, numerous women of San Patricio felt sorry for Chipita and did not think she was guilty. They would come to the little jail and bring her food and visit with her. The day before she was sentenced to be hanged, she told her friend Kate McCumber, who had come to bring her some food and visit with her, that she had something she wanted to tell her. She made Kate promise she would not tell another soul for “many years.” Kate kept her promise, and it was forty years to the day before she told her daughter what Chipita had told her back on November 12, 1863. Chipita told her she did not kill John Savage. She said after Savage fell asleep she took a little walk along the riverbank as she often did in the evenings. Hearing a commotion at the inn, she returned to her home to see by the dim light a figure of a man stooped over a prostrate body on the ground. The face of the man was revealed in the pale moonlight. It reminded her of her late father. Then she knew. The man who had killed John Savage was her son, whom she had not seen since he was an infant. The son took Savage’s horse and the saddlebags of gold, leaving Chipita with a dead man on her front porch. She didn’t know what to do. She was small, and Savage was a big man. She ran to get her friend Juan Silvera, who lived on the Aldrete Ranch across the river. She was sure he would help her dispose of the body.
Juan came to help his friend and together they dragged the body, which they had wrapped in gunnysacking, down to the river, which is where the party from the Welder ranch found it the next day.
Chipita swore to Kate that she was innocent, but she could not reveal her son as the killer even if it meant she would hang. If the story she told Kate McCumber was true, an innocent woman was hanged on Friday, November 13, 1863. She became the only woman ever to be hanged in Texas.
There were two other kindly women of the town, sisters Rachel and Eliza Sullivan, who believed in Chipita’s innocence. They came early in the morning the day she was to be hanged, bringing warm water so she could bathe herself. Rachel brought her one of her own favorite dresses of blue and white organdy to wear. The sisters combed and braided Chipita’s long hair before they departed.
At last the time arrived, and Chipita was taken by wagon down to the riverbanks where a grave had been dug near the mesquite tree on whose limbs she would hang. She had to sit on her own crudely made coffin as the wagon bounced along over a rutted road. She turned down the offer of a blindfold, calmly facing her fate, and still said, “libre de culpa” (not guilty) to the hangman. Her face remained without emotion, but she did ask, “cigarillo?” Deputy John Gilpin is said to have taken a corn shuck and some tobacco from his pocket, rolled a crude cigarette and handed it, along with a match, to Chipita. She took a long pull, let the smoke slowly ease out of her nostrils, and then a gust of wind blew the smoke into her eyes. But her face remained expressionless.
The rope was placed around her slender neck, and Deputy Gilpin whipped the horses out from under her. Her feet thrashed about as she strangled, as the weight of her small, frail body had failed to break her neck. There was no cover over her face to keep the horrors of her strangulation away from the witnesses who had followed the wagon to the hanging tree. As soon as Deputy Gilpin was convinced she must be dead, he cut the rope and dumped her little body into the coffin, which was then lowered into the waiting open grave. A bystander, Jack McGowan, added more details to the gruesome story. He said he heard a thump, and then a groan, coming from within the coffin! He said he didn’t stop running until he reached his home, almost a mile away.
Since that grim day in 1863, Chipita’s ghost has been seen by many people in the San Patricio vicinity. She is most often seen when a woman in Texas is being accused of a crime she did not commit. The ghost of Chipita is most always seen on nights when the full moon is waning and a low ground mist or fog turns the Nueces River bottom into a very eerie place. She comes to the place where she hung, and where her body was placed in an unmarked, unconsecrated grave. Mr. Guthrie told me in a recent telephone conversation that her apparition still appears on dark nights when the moon is on the wane.
Remember, Chipita was the only woman ever hanged for a crime in Texas. And she more than likely hung for a crime she did not commit. No wonder her spirit cannot rest in peace.
The Ghost at Little Egypt
Not very far from the Texas coast, in Wharton County, is the quiet little community of Egypt. It was so named by very religious early settlers, because farmers from surrounding areas would come there during drought seasons to purchase seed. The fertile area supplied grain seeds to many farmers, who recalled how Jacob had purchased seed from Pharoah in the Bible story (Acts 7:12), and so they named their own fertile spot Egypt.
The first settler in the area around 1830 was Captain William James Elliot Heard.
According to 1001 Texas Place Names, by Fred Tarpley, the population of Egypt in 1902 was only twenty-six people. To that number, we must also add, “and at least one ghost!”
I recently spoke with Anita Northington, who is the widow of George Heard Northington, III, a descendant of Captain Heard. She lives in the old Texas plantation-style home that Captain Heard built for his wife, America, and their children, in 1850.
Numerous Heards and Northingtons have resided in the house, which was constructed of handmade brick made on the place. It has a broad front porch and is of the “dog-trot” type of construction that was so often used by early settlers.
According to Mrs. Northington, many ghost stories have circulated through the various generations, and she readily admits she has what she considers to be a friendly spirit. She sometimes hears “thuds . . . or thumps,” like something hitting the side of the house, and what might be footsteps on the inside. She doesn’t seem to be the least bit afraid or disturbed, and in fact, she told me she feels a whole lot safer living alone in her old country house with a ghost for company than she would feel living in a big city with the crime that seems to be running rampant today.
In the 1930s, when Will and Essie Northington had the place, a man who once worked for them on the plantation came back for a visit. He was very ill and knew he might not live too long, and he wanted to make one last visit to the place that held so many fond memories. During his visit it was reported a large, heavy marble-topped table had moved around the living room by itself. Various other things of unexplainable nature occurred during his visit, convincing him the place was haunted.
Once when Anita’s son and daughter-in-law and a party of young people who were all friends of theirs came for an overnight visit, there just weren’t enough beds to go around. Some of the guests slept in the living room on bedrolls. One young man, a visitor from Russia, when asked what he thought of the old house, commented, “It is a very strange place.” He went on to say that he had strongly felt the presence of “something” watching him all night long.
Anita told me that one time the cook got really spooked. It was her usual custom to ring a bell to summon hired hands, guests, and family members in for meals. This particular day she didn’t. She came running out of the kitchen, hollering, “Miz ’Nita . . . that ghost done got me!” Then she went on to explain that she first noticed all the clocks had stopped running at straight up twelve noon. Then she saw the figure of a man without a head coming slowly down the stairs! It was pretty hard to get her calmed down and back in the kitchen that day!
Anita said one elderly man who once worked on the place told her, “You don’t ever need to be afraid, Miss ’Nita. Nobody ain’t ever going to bother you with that ghost around!”
Now who is the ghost that is said to haunt the old Heard-Northington country home there in Egypt? Anita believes it might be the spirit of a Confederate soldier who passed away in an upstairs bedroom. She was always told that two soldiers had been sheltered there for a time, and one of them had died there. They may have been among a number of soldiers evacuated from other parts of the Deep South after Sherman made his sweeping march through the area. There were no hospitals, and few homes, left standing in which to treat the w
ounded, so they were evacuated to Texas, many of them coming to the area around El Campo and Egypt.
Anita said that some Federal troops had moved into an area not far from Egypt that was called Post Bernard. Since the post was only about 8 or 10 miles from the house, there was need for hiding, as well as treating, the wounded soldiers.
According to family records, one of the soldiers had a wooden leg. Anita believes he is the one who died. She was also of the opinion he might have been a Presbyterian minister who had served with the Confederate forces as a chaplain during the war.
Mrs. Northington said that some former residents of the house had reported seeing apparitions, and some had reported seeing balls of fire running through the house, but she has never seen or heard anything that really frightened her. In fact, she believes her ghostly visitor is both friendly and protective.
The old landmark is open for tours, and Anita Northington welcomes visitors to her charming, historic home. If you would like to visit her, she would be happy for you to call her at (409) 677-3562 for information and directions.
CHAPTER 4
Corpus Christi’s
Resident Spirits
Corpus Christi
The Spanish explorer Alonzo de Pineda discovered a beautiful, broad, sheltered bay on Corpus Christi Day, in the year 1519. The bay was named Corpus Christi in honor of that special day.
It was not until many years later that a real city, which also took the name of the bay, grew up along the waterfront. The area was inhabited by numerous Indian tribes, and while the Spanish, and later the Mexicans, knew of the bay, no settlement was established there until 1839. The adventurous impresario and colonizer Colonel Henry Lawrence Kinney founded a trading post there, doing business with some of the settlers in the area.
The little post remained rather obscure until 1845, when its real growth began. Today, it is one of America’s major seaports and an important recreational area as well. It is the home of the Texas State Aquarium and the U.S.S. Lexington Museum. Its shores are protected from the ravages of stormy seas by a beautiful seawall, which was designed by Gutzon Borglum, the famous sculptor who fashioned the presidential faces on Mount Rushmore.
The Ghost at Blackbeard’s
on the “C.C.” Beach
Right within walking distance of the famous aircraft carrier the U.S.S. Lexington, often referred to as the “Great Blue Ghost” which is now permanently docked in Corpus Christi Bay, there’s a restaurant called Blackbeard’s. The popular spot on the North Beach (referred to as “C.C. Beach”) has an interesting ghost legend, which the owner-manager, Steve Bonillas, revealed to us on a recent visit to Corpus.
The menu, which features a variety of tasty Mexican food, burgers, salads, and seafood, is printed with a cover story, the “Legend of Blackbeard’s”:
In the summer of 1955 this building was not green. Nor was it a restaurant. It was a bar. The North Beach area of Corpus Christi was a fun, active, and sometimes wild place to hang out. On a warm night people would crowd to the old bar, laughing and talking. The bar itself is still in its original position, but now it is a counter to the kitchen. Legend has it that there was an argument one evening over a red-headed woman. Shots were fired, and the redhead and a fast talking New Orleans roughneck headed north on the old causeway. Neither they nor their gold Hudson were ever seen again. But they left behind a man on the floor . . . and possibly a ghost! Over the years many strange occurrences have been reported by customers as well as employees. Chairs move. Doors slam. Lights blink on and off. Voices in conversation have been heard long after the last customer departed. One old-timer used to order two beers every time he came in. He said the second one on the bar was for the ghost!
In 1962 the flamboyant entrepreneur and amateur magician Colonel Larry Platt bought the little bar and added a dining room. He called it the Spanish Kitchen, and from the start, it was the “in” place to go on the North Beach. Popular for good food, fun, and a gathering place for friends and visitors, the Spanish Kitchen tradition continues today as Blackbeard’s on the Beach. Next to the clean beaches of Corpus Christi Bay, the Lexington, and the Texas State Aquarium, Blackbeard’s is proud to be part of the new North Beach . . . fun, lively, and the place to be!
And while some do, and some don’t, believe in ghosts, we at Blackbeard’s still leave a beer on the old bar in memory of that summer of ’55.
Now, this story on the menu was so fascinating to me, that it just naturally called for some extra sleuthing. I talked on the telephone at length with Paula Bonillas, Steve’s wife, who was kind enough to put me in touch with Colonel Platt, who now resides in Pleasanton, south of San Antonio. Incidentally, the “Colonel” is an honorary title, bestowed on the gentleman as an “Honorary Colonel of Texas” by then-Governor Alan Shivers.
A conversation with Colonel Platt seemed to refute much of the legend printed on the Blackbeard’s menu. He revealed that the bar and restaurant he opened in 1962 was an entirely different building from the earlier structure. He said when he bought the lot, the building that was there was so run down, he had it completely demolished and built his place of concrete block where the other building had once stood. He did not mention that he had any feelings that the building might have been haunted during the time he ran the business there, nor did he put much credence on the “red-headed woman” story. He did say that he had one theory why the place might be haunted now, however.
The Platts owned a motel . . . they were called tourist courts back then, that was adjacent to the Spanish Kitchen. It was called Stewart’s Courts, the Colonel told me. There were about sixteen separate little cabins, with a parking space by each one, and the place was usually well occupied. Platt recalled one man, a fellow in his mid-forties, who had a job over at Ingleside at the Reynolds Plant and actually resided at the motel. He would come into the Spanish Kitchen night after night, sit down at the bar, and proceed to down a few beers. He was a strange character, according to Colonel Platt. He always carried a hunting rifle with him, and he loved to play the jukebox. Platt said he would play the same song over and over until he would have to ask the man to lay off for a while so the other customers could have a turn at playing their selections. The tune he played over and over again was “As Time Goes By.” The man had revealed he was very depressed over the fact he was newly separated from his wife. Platt said he guessed the man was even more despondent than anyone had suspected, because one night after downing a couple of beers and playing “his song” on the jukebox, he walked out of the restaurant, entered his little cabin, put his rifle in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. Colonel Platt said if there’s any kind of “spirit” around, it certainly could be that of the man who so tragically ended his life. Maybe he is just returning to listen to the jukebox and down a few beers at the bar.
Whoever the “spirit” may be, Steve Bonillas firmly believes that Blackbeard’s is haunted. He told me lots of times they feel cold spots in the place. Chairs have been known to move around when the place is closed for the night, and the door, which is very heavy, has blown open when no wind was blowing, and it sometimes has even blown open when a high wind was blowing against it! Felipe Villanueva, one of the cooks at Blackbeard’s, once saw the salt and pepper shakers jump up and fly across a table! Bonilla, Villanueva, and Dennis Marshal, another cook, all have witnessed the door opening when no one was around, and all three men strongly believe something they don’t understand is causing strange things to happen periodically at Blackbeard’s.
For whatever reason “it” comes around, we’re glad “it” stays away from the kitchen. The Mexican food we ate at Blackbeard’s sure was good, and we wouldn’t want anything to change that!
The “Great Blue Ghost”
Has Ghosts of Her Own!
After serving her country for nearly fifty years (1943-1991), the great aircraft carrier U.S.S. Lexington (CV16) has come to a permanent safe harbor, at the port city of Corpus Christi on the Texas Gulf Coast. As a naval museum,
under the custodial care of the Corpus Christi Convention and Visitors Bureau and many devoted and dedicated volunteers, she will be visited and suitably honored for many years to come.
During World War II, the Lexington was often referred to as the Great Blue Ghost, a name bestowed upon her by Tokyo Rose, who gained notoriety during the war for her propaganda broadcasts to Allied troops. Painted in Measure II “Sea Blue,” the ship blended well with the azure seas she sailed. Hit once by a torpedo in December of 1943 and severely damaged by a kamikaze attack in December 1944, the Japanese reported her sunk at least four times. But after repairs and restoration, she came back each time to contribute greatly to the U.S. war effort in the Pacific theater. The valiant ship received the Presidential Unit Citation: “For extraordinary heroism in action against enemy Japanese forces in the air, ashore, and afloat in the Pacific War Area from September 18, 1943, to August 15, 1945.” The “Lady Lex” earned battle stars and awards for operations in the Gilbert Islands, Asia-Pacific raids, Lyte, Luzon, and Iwo Jima, as well as the Third Fleet operations against Japan. She was everywhere, and anywhere, she was needed, with her crew of 2,500 men and 250 officers and her hangar bays capable of handling at least forty aircraft ready to strike.
The huge ship with its 910-foot flight deck (so large that 1,000 automobiles could be comfortably parked upon it!) has been “home” to literally thousands of seamen and aircraft crews over its fifty-year history. There were many casualties during her years of service, including nine men killed and thirty-five wounded after being torpedoed, and forty-seven men killed and one hundred twenty-seven injured after the 1944 kamikaze attack. There were probably many other deaths as well, from illness, fever, and various accidents on board ship.
Ghosts along the Texas Coast Page 10