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“The old Church is still there, the graveyard, the road--and when the night is dark and windy, who knows who else?
—The Phantom Rider of the Confederacy”
― This Haunted Land
—The Phantom Rider of the Confederacy”
― This Haunted Land
“Housing developments now cover the countryside where hundreds of miners, many from foreign lands, once worked in the Carolina gold fields. Modern highways slash through hills where King George’s men stood in resplendent battle lines. But the builders and developers have only destroyed the physical appearance of the area. They can never kill the ghosts and spirits which must rise at night as surely as does the full moon.
And the supernatural is far from remote. It is a matter of daily experience for those who look for more than mediums and witchcraft can ever offer.”
― This Haunted Land
And the supernatural is far from remote. It is a matter of daily experience for those who look for more than mediums and witchcraft can ever offer.”
― This Haunted Land
“So, as time went on and the war was finally won and the last British soldiers departed for their homeland, the king’s messengers became couriers without an army. On rainy nights the eerie pair still roamed, galloping along forever with a message never to be delivered, the writer of the message long since dead and buried in the red earth of King’s Mountain.
Settlements grew into towns, then cities, and the two riders became wary of the main roads, taking to the country lanes in their endless search for the way to Charlottesburg.
Some say you can still see them. A cold, rainy night in early October is the best time to look for the King’s Messengers. For then they were most apt to suddenly appear galloping over the hill on some lonely dirt road between King’s Mountain and Salisbury, two specters hurtling through the night on their phantom steeds, pausing sporadically to inquire the way to Charlottesburg. And, if by chance they should ask you, it doesn’t really matter in which direction you point for even with the best of directions an invisible power thwarts and diverts the restless apparitions at every turn.
—The King’s Messengers”
― This Haunted Land
Settlements grew into towns, then cities, and the two riders became wary of the main roads, taking to the country lanes in their endless search for the way to Charlottesburg.
Some say you can still see them. A cold, rainy night in early October is the best time to look for the King’s Messengers. For then they were most apt to suddenly appear galloping over the hill on some lonely dirt road between King’s Mountain and Salisbury, two specters hurtling through the night on their phantom steeds, pausing sporadically to inquire the way to Charlottesburg. And, if by chance they should ask you, it doesn’t really matter in which direction you point for even with the best of directions an invisible power thwarts and diverts the restless apparitions at every turn.
—The King’s Messengers”
― This Haunted Land
“A hundred years later the gold is still there. The miners have all left and no one would know that beneath the red clay of these Carolina hills the best and the worst in man struggled with each other in the search for gold.
If you should walk across these hills, you may still hear the wind whispering the names of these mines—the Dixie Queen, the Yellow Dog, the Blue Hill, the Dutch Bend and the Reed Mine, but even the wind does not mention the name of the MacIntosh Mine.
—The Haunted Gold Mine”
― This Haunted Land
If you should walk across these hills, you may still hear the wind whispering the names of these mines—the Dixie Queen, the Yellow Dog, the Blue Hill, the Dutch Bend and the Reed Mine, but even the wind does not mention the name of the MacIntosh Mine.
—The Haunted Gold Mine”
― This Haunted Land
“Nor was this the last time the two riders were seen. Travelers on the road between Salisbury and Charlotte often saw the riders. Sometimes they were traveling away from their destination. One stagecoach driver said he had “given them directions so many times that he was beginning to resent the delays every time he met them.”
Particularly wherever the road forked, the forms of the two couriers were often seen huddled together looking at their map to decide which fork to take. And anyone who chanced by was always hailed and asked the way to Charlottesburg.
“We must be there by morning,” one of the men would invariably say.
Drivers of the stagecoaches found that their horses became fidgety and nervous when approaching the riders, as if they sensed the two shadowy figures no longer belonged to the natural world.
—The King’s Messengers”
― This Haunted Land
Particularly wherever the road forked, the forms of the two couriers were often seen huddled together looking at their map to decide which fork to take. And anyone who chanced by was always hailed and asked the way to Charlottesburg.
“We must be there by morning,” one of the men would invariably say.
Drivers of the stagecoaches found that their horses became fidgety and nervous when approaching the riders, as if they sensed the two shadowy figures no longer belonged to the natural world.
—The King’s Messengers”
― This Haunted Land
“P.S. For those who don’t believe in ghosts we have a remedy. The first night of the full moon in October walk to the top of King’s Mountain and then down the path to Colonel Ferguson’s grave. Spend the next night watching the Brown Mountain lights alone from a deserted overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway. And, on the third night go alone at midnight to the Devil’s Tramping Ground near Siler City and wait for the moon to set. This will restore your faith.”
― This Haunted Land
― This Haunted Land
