Haunted Savannah: America's Most Spectral City

by Caskey, James

  The house was sold in 1908 to the Elk’s Lodge. It remained in their hands for many years before becoming a school. The structure finally became vacant in the late 1980’s, a dubious status it continues to hold today.

  Where Does This Leave Us?

  Despite the conspicuous shortage of corroborating evidence, strange stories persist regarding 12 West Oglethorpe. Tours continue to stop there, and the legends grow. I seriously doubt if these stories are true, but one thing is painfully obvious: people certainly want the house to be haunted, whether it is or not. We seek to explain mysteries that we don’t understand, often by projecting our fears. A toy gets discontinued? An urban legend pops up that usually involves a child being seriously hurt, or even killed, by said toy. An abandoned house is a similar unanswered question, a riddle our brains wish to solve: namely, why does no one live there? Well, it must be haunted, right? And this is the way that a vacant, dilapidated house becomes fodder for a ghost story.

  There is another industry insider ‘dirty secret’ aspect of this, one having nothing to do with research and verifiable facts, and everything to do with the admittedly difficult nature of being a tour guide. Guides have routes that they generally like to follow, and they time their path through the Historic District so as to hit each story’s location in a habitual, timely fashion. When another tour group for another company is in ‘their’ spot, sometimes the guide is forced to talk about something else nearby for the duration until their preferred location is clear. And often times these sort of ‘outside of the normal rhythm’ stories are the type of generic, ‘hip-pocket’ tales that are easily transferrable to any location, but is, by its very nature, very close to a prominent and famous ghost story location. It is the ghost-tour equivalent of that generic tilapia filet in your favorite restaurant’s freezer, which suddenly gets a new name when the much-more-expensive fish (usually snapper, flounder, or sea-bass) runs out: a substitute for the real thing that likely no one will ever figure out is a faux last-second alternate. It’s a little appalling, but this sort of thing happens in kitchens (and on tour routes) all the time.

  For me, the tip-off that this is a substitution is the close proximity to one of Savannah’s most prominent haunted structures: the Birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low, which is less than half a block away, and is one of the most popular spots in town. And rather than circling like an airliner awaiting its turn to land at an airport, the guide has to talk about something. And the request by guides to ‘take a lot of pictures’ is the ghost-tour equivalent of “Okay, kids, in today’s class we’re going to watch a video.” It kills precious time on the tour, during which the guide doesn’t have to narrate at all. I don’t presume to take these guides to task for being forced outside their routine. It happens. But I do deduct points for them not knowing enough about the area to find a great story, one literally underneath their feet. That same guide who tells a completely false story about 12 West Oglethorpe’s ‘doctor’ should look very carefully at the city block he or she is pointing to, because that entire section of the city (between Whitaker, Oglethorpe, Bull and York Streets) was once a cemetery, from 1733 until 1750. And it is pretty well-documented that the City didn’t move the bodies. Every single house on that block sits squarely on top of seventeen years worth of human remains from the early days of Savannah.

  Whistling Through Graveyards

  Colonial Park Cemetery, located three blocks to the east, is widely regarded as the oldest cemetery in Georgia, but it was not the first. The site of the first official cemetery in Georgia encompassed that entire city block, the same one in which 12 West Oglethorpe, built nearly one hundred and fifty years later, currently resides. That old burial ground was closed due to massive overcrowding. When Colonial Park Cemetery opened, one might easily assume that the bodies from the older cemetery would be moved into the newer cemetery, right? Um, no. The townsfolk had a practical reason for not moving the bodies into the new cemetery: they feared disease. Many of the dead had succumbed to yellow fever, a dreaded killer, as well as many other types of disease that the early Savannahians feared would still be communicable. Even more bizarrely, the city eventually allowed that land to be developed into businesses and houses. Today, there is only a brass plaque flanking Wright Square on York Street which commemorates the Protestant graves located in this first burial ground.

  The most obvious question is: Why would Savannahians build over a cemetery? It might seem strange if you’re new to Savannah, but it is not at all unusual in this city to find human remains where they don’t belong. A search through the archives at the Georgia Historical Society reveals this to be true, and it isn’t limited to small areas of the city. For instance, a Savannah Morning News article from 1878 describes a man digging a ditch on the far western edge of Bryan Street (near modern-day MLK Boulevard) who struck something with his spade. Examination proved it to be a small coffin-like box, and inside it contained the body of an infant.

  There was also a Jewish burial ground, located towards the south of the original cemetery. That cemetery has survived, and is bizarrely situated in the median of Oglethorpe Avenue. It is to the best of my knowledge the only recognized burial ground located between lanes of traffic. At last count, at least sixteen bodies are still interred there, nestled between the east- and westbound lanes of one of Savannah’s main downtown thoroughfares.

  Getting back to the former Wright Square burial ground for a moment: any type of construction that takes place in that location that involves digging has to be done very carefully because of all the bodies still located under the buildings, back lane (alley) and street. Some road crews and utility companies have been accompanied by an archaeologist, and they usually turn up a few of Georgia’s earliest inhabitants when they do any sort of maintenance. A man working for Georgia Power who asked not to be identified relayed a grisly tale about laying some cable in that area using a machine that burrows sideways through the ground. He said, “A human body makes a distinct sound when that machine bores through it. We are supposed to keep a log of when we hear that sound. When we laid a cable in the alley running behind that area, I was busy all day writing down the fact that we kept hitting body… after body… after body.” He then described the sound, likening it to a wooden spoon caught in a garbage disposal.

  Savannah is truly a city built on the dead. That’s the real story worth telling: it’s undeniably creepy, and has the added benefit of being absolutely true.

  Marshall House

  123 East Broughton Street

  The beautiful Greek Revival hotel known as the Marshall House sits on Broughton Street, but the exterior is evocative of something more commonly expected in the French Quarter of New Orleans, complete with a cast iron balcony. Unlike so many structures in Savannah that have been converted into rooms for rent later in their lives, this building was constructed originally to be a hotel, and has been used for that purpose for most of its history. The upscale hotel boasts a fully-appointed bar, an adjoining fine-dining restaurant, and a front lobby which gleams of marble.

  The Marshall House Hotel was built in 1851 by Mary Marshall. Her father, Gabriel Lever, a 19th century cabinet maker, bought some property on Broughton Street and passed it on to his daughter when he died. Mary built the hotel on the site, and it is considered by architectural historians to be the finest structure she had built in Savannah. The cast iron balconies and veranda were added in 1857. Years later, the hotel changed ownership and was renamed the Geiger Hotel, after its new proprietor, Minnie Geiger. In 1933, Herbert W. Gilbert leased the hotel and changed its name to the Gilbert Hotel, which closed in September 1945.

  The hotel was reopened again as the Marshall Hotel in 1946 after extensive renovations. When their 10-year lease ran out in 1956, the owners decided it cost too much to bring the building up to the standards required by Georgia fire codes. The hotel closed, and many thought it would be the last time. But the Marshall House underwent ext
ensive renovations in 1999 and re-opened its doors to the public as a luxury hotel.

  “...when the Marshall House underwent renovations in the late 1990’s, the workers made a grisly discovery...”

  Haunted Happenings on Broughton Street

  Otherworldly stories persist about the Marshall House. Before the hotel reopened in August of 1999, the staff reported strange odors and something that they could only describe as “bad vibes” from rooms 214, 314, and 414. Many different types of deodorizers were used, to no avail, and even an ozone machine was tried to remove the odor, without success. Finally, the staff tried something drastic: group prayer. This worked nearly immediately in rooms 214 and 314, but 414 was different. That particular room had an aura and odor so oppressive that the staff members could not stay in the room long enough to pray. Finally, the housekeeping manager fixed on a unique solution: a radio tuned to a gospel station was placed in the room, with the volume turned up. This apparently worked, since both the odor and strange menacing vibes have not been experienced since.

  Some staff members and guests alike have reported hearing the sounds of a small child bouncing a ball up and down the upper hallways of the hotel. Many hotel guests have asked about the disembodied sounds of the pitter-patter of a child’s feet in the halls, or of a child laughing. Others still have reported seeing a spectral cat, which then vanishes.

  One former bartender claims that he heard the sounds of footsteps many times over the bar when he knew that area was deserted. He even heard a rhythmic banging sound coming from over the bar that had several people smiling into their hands. “It sounded like a couple was up there trying to break the bed, so to speak,” Kevin said with a wink, and the implication was clear. When he mentioned it to the front desk staff, they informed him that the room directly above the bar was empty.

  A physician and his wife mentioned an encounter with something paranormal at checkout one morning. It seems the doctor had been awakened several times by a gentle tickling sensation on his feet in the middle of the night. In his sleepy state he was convinced that the comforter or the sheets were somehow responsible for the sensation of something lightly brushing his feet. The last time it occurred, he looked down to see a little girl tickling his feet. She smiled and vanished.

  Some have had the chilling sensation of awakening to feel a hand being pressed against the guest’s forehead, exactly like someone was taking their temperature. Some research turned up the fact that for a time during the War Between the States, the Marshall House was used by the Union Army as a hospital. Sherman’s troops occupied the hotel and the Union army turned it into a hospital until the war ended, some six months later. Perhaps the former medical staff at the Marshall House is still fulfilling their duty to care for the occupants of the rooms, not realizing the conflict is long-since over, and the people tucked into their beds at night are not in need of medical treatment.

  Built in 1851 by Mary Marshall.

  A Terrible Discovery?

  This link to being a medical facility would also explain the rumors that when the Marshall House underwent renovations in the late 1990’s, the workers made a grisly discovery in a downstairs room. It is said that some floorboards had rotted, and were in need of replacement. When they pried up the floorboards, they found human remains. When the authorities were called in, they treated is as if it were a crime scene, carefully cataloguing the remains they were finding. The odd thing about it was that they were finding hands, feet, arms and legs—nearly three dozen in all. Later tests revealed that the body parts dated from the Civil War era, thus confirming their Union Army connection.

  The downstairs was reputedly used as a surgery, and a number of amputations were said to have been performed in that room. A surgical procedure such as removal of a gangrenous limb was performed very differently than it is today. Anesthesia was in short supply. The unfortunate soldier was often given a small amount of liquor, held down by strong male nurses, and the offending limb was savagely sawed off. Doctors are nicknamed ‘Sawbones’ even today because of this gruesome practice. The average amputation took several minutes. The wound was then packed with sawdust or lint with no regard for sanitary or antiseptic surgery. Also in use during that time period was the practice of placing a lead bullet between the teeth of the soldier receiving the amputation, giving the poor soul something to bite on during the crude procedure. This gives rise to the phrase ‘bite the bullet’. With that origin is it any wonder that the saying means doing something very much against one’s will?

  With the severed limbs piling up, the Union soldiers allegedly found a quick and easy way to be rid of the leftover body parts: they pulled up a floorboard or two and tossed the severed body parts under the floor. There were several groupings of limbs, presumably because the surgeons would bury each day’s amputations in a bundle together.

  In an ordinary year, the smell would have been horrendous. But the winter of 1864 was one of the coldest winters Savannah’s ever had on record, so those body parts would have decomposed slowly, and the Marshall House was abandoned for many years after Sherman’s troops left town. So there these body parts remained—until 1999! The Union soldiers left Savannah a souvenir that wasn’t found until 135 years later.

  Here is where Savannah’s morbid sense of humor kicks in: what better room to use as a night manager’s office? Managers have complained of strange noises emanating in or around that office. Low moans and strange unexplained footsteps have been heard. One manager saw a shadowy figure pass by the open door to the office, and this happened at a time that he was supposedly alone. The man was wearing a heavy dark blue overcoat. He also claimed that there was one other odd thing about the man that he saw—the fact that he only had one arm. This Union soldier has been seen on numerous occasions.

  When the human remains were removed from the office, it is said that the strange noises immediately started. The ghosts apparently miss their severed limbs, and have begun to search for them. One can only suppose that the Marshall House charged those Union soldiers an arm and a leg for their stay.

  One manager had many problems sorting through her paperwork in the downstairs. She would find that documents she had just organized would be out of sequence moments later, papers would switch stacks on her by themselves and throw off her totals, and stacks of cash would mysteriously reorganize themselves. Exasperated, she had to admonish the ghost. “Okay, I don’t mind your playfulness, I like fun and games,” she said aloud. “I know I’m sharing your space, but please don’t play with the money.” The paranormal activity in the office, she claims, became drastically less frequent from that moment on.

  At least, the activity abated for her, but not for others on the property. One security guard confirmed that there was definitely something odd about the downstairs. “There are some weird sounds down there, and they’re not being made by the elevator,” he said, cryptically. When pressed as to what he has heard on the lower level, he simply said, “Sounds that shouldn’t be there.”

  How Much of This Is True?

  I have been told the story of the Union Army’s discarded limbs being left under the floorboards at the Marshall House by countless people, some of whom have worked at the hotel. I have looked long and hard for any sort of documentation to back up these claims, but I will admit that the search has thus far been fruitless. I can confirm via several Savannah Morning News articles that the hotel was indeed commandeered by the Union Army, who used it as a hospital in 1864-1865. As of now, the ‘limbs’ story is just a fun bit of gruesome folklore. I will continue to look for the truth at the Georgia Historical Society, but so far, nothing. And the storyteller in me laments the fact that the hotel is so reasonably priced for being a luxurious property, so I can make no jokes about the Marshall House charging an arm and a leg.

  A Ghost Story With Real Bite

  Another terrifying incident seemingly straight out of the movie The Shining occurr
ed in room 304. A mother and her preschool-aged daughter were staying in the room one night, and the mother was in the sitting area reading while the daughter was in the bathroom. The mother became aware that she could hear her daughter speaking, but even more disturbing was the fact that she could hear two voices, and it wasn’t the television. Her daughter sounded agitated. She asked her daughter who she was talking to, and her little girl responded, “The little boy in the bathtub.” When she walked into the bathroom, wondering who on earth was in the bathroom with her daughter, she found her girl in near tears, pointing to an empty bathtub. The girl said, “He’s right there and he has big teeth and he bit me!” The girl did indeed have a bite mark complete with teeth impressions on her arm, just above her elbow on the back of her arm. It was in an area that she would have no way of reaching with her own mouth, let alone biting. Needless to say, the pair was given a new room at a new hotel, free of charge, no questions asked.

  This is not the only incident of strange bites at the hotel. Another woman, a Director of Sales for a prominent company, who stayed in a nearby room reported waking up with a bite mark on her arm. It appeared to be a child’s bite, and it was done with enough force to leave a bruise on her skin. This was found on her upper inner arm, in an area nearly impossible to reach on oneself without being a contortionist. Even stranger (or perhaps more telling of the amenities at the Marshall House), the woman still continues to stay at the hotel while on business trips to Savannah. Perhaps then, she was bitten by Savannah’s charm, as well.