The Main Floor
When you arrive at White Hill Mansion, the first thing you notice is the security fence. It rather surprises you, but then you focus on the building behind the gates. Initially, you're struck by it crumbling beauty, then it sense of history... and then something else. I discovered on my first visit that there were - most likely - burials nearby, either settlers or natives. The ground and the trees seem to hold their essence, and the feeling is enhanced by the Delaware River flowing closely behind the building.
The entrance to the main floor is decorated with the year the structure was built, and a historical marker.
This doorway leads you into the main floor. As you enter, you are immediately confronted by the staircase leading to the second level. My first time in the house, I felt a strong female presence on the landing, and later two of us heard the tromping of children's feet. This time, those perceptions were gone, although I felt as though the children were hiding elsewhere in the mansion.
In the photo, you can see the entrance leading into the hallway. As you enter, there is a series of rooms to your left. The hallway runs back to a restaurant (which was a later addition), and also the stairs to the cellar. To the right of the entrance is the formal parlor, where I was located..
This is a picture taken from the hall, looking into the parlor. (That's Claude sitting on the distant chair.)
This is a shot from the corner of the parlor, looking out towards the staircase. My wheelchair is in the center of the room.
Here is the view from my chair, looking towards the hall. If you were to make a right, you would be heading down to the newer, restaurant portion of the mansion.
..You can identify the restaurant from the outside of the building by taking note of all the windows.
In its prime, it must have been a grand place to dine. Even today, the view out its elongated windows is rustic and peaceful. The Delaware flows gently by.
This is the view from the hallway, looking back down to the entrance. About where the photographer is standing, to his right, are the stairs to the cellar.
..Going back to the entrance (and looking at the floor plan) you will notice a series of additional rooms. The first is the Crossley Room.
And yet, back in the formal parlor, we have this breathtaking chandelier.
The Crossley room leads into the the original dining room, which then links up to the new restaurant.
If you were to continue straight through the Crossley room (the doorway is to the left of the fireplace),
you would pass from the restaurant kitchen into the Field's kitchen.
Last year, Bob caught an interesting shadow in the Field's kitchen. He was alone, no one was behind him, there was no strap on his camera to interfere, and yet he caught this image:
Before I continue, let me introduce you to my part of the team. This is (from left to right) Bob, John, and Claude. In the following picture is Claude, standing next to me and my wheelchair.
I had provided clipboards, pens, floor layouts, and protective black salt to everyone. They were to go through the house using only their senses first. If they felt/saw/smelled something, they were to note it on the layout so it could be compared later. We never got to the point of comparison. Were the layouts used? I'm not sure. John was literally bouncing in place; he could not be contained. I finally handed him a lantern and told him to go.
Meanwhile, Karen had entered the parlor just as I noticed an immense cold spot behind me. I reached back with my arm as Karen said, "A shadow figure just passed across the fireplace." This was near where Claude was seated, but she said nothing.
Bob had located for me a small wire table on which I could lay out my candles, protection sprays, and singing bowl. I was trying to organize these when I felt a wave of tension behind me. Suddenly, Claude spoke. "Just because YOU aren't feeling well doesn't mean you get to strike out at John!"
Strike out at John? Humm. I looked over my shoulder and simply said, "Claude, don't start."
"DON'T START??" Now, she was practically yelling. "Just because YOU'RE sick doesn't mean you can lash out at others!"
Again, I turned to her and said softly, "You know I never use this term, but you need to shut up now. Seriously."
That lit the tinderbox. She rose to her feet, gripping her cane, and screamed. "YOU shut up! F**k you! Go to Hell and F**K yourself!" And, with that, she stormed out of the room.
The atmosphere in the parlor got warmer. You see, I knew something Claude and John didn't. The spirit of Mary was said to be seen often in the parlor, sometimes crying. She loved this house and probably had many instances when she despaired of keeping it out of British hands. John and Claude walked into the parlor and immediately started chatting how they would change, redecorate, and refinish the room...not something the spirit of the protective homeowner would want to hear.
Claude advised later that, as soon as she left the room, she couldn't figure out why she had just attacked me. She wasn't even angry. Could she have been "jumped" by a spirit? There's no way to tell.
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| My various protection tools and singing bowl |
SOMEONE defInitely knew she was there.
Next time: The Cellar. Until then, have a boo-a-ful week!
