Aunt Pratt
Duckie
(c) LB Taylor, Jr
It is, unquestionably, one of the most magnificent original colonial
mansions in the United States. Architectural historians believe that
parts of its impressive design were inspired by the second governor's
palace at Williamsburg. The site upon which the great house sits is
steeped in early Virginia history and tradition. It was, in fact,
founded in 1613 - just six years after the first settlers landed at
nearby James-town, and a full seven years before the Pilgrims arrived
at Plymouth Rock. This is Shirley Plantation, located at a point
overlooking a scenic bend in the James River about halfway between
Williamsburg and Richmond. It was originally owned by Sir Thomas West,
the first Royal Governor of the Colony of Virginia. He named it in
honor of his wife's father, Sir Thomas Shirley of Whiston, England.
Later, the plantation gained eminence as the home of Colonel Edward
Hill, who held many high offices in the colony through the mid-17th
century, including speaker of the Assembly of Burgesses and treasurer
of Virginia. The estate has been in the Hill and Carter families for
more than 300 years. The present house was begun in 1723 by the third
Edward Hill, also a man of status in the colony. He built it for his
daughter, Elizabeth, who married John Carter, son of the legendary
King Carter. It took nearly 50 years to complete the construction and
was done as one author described it, "with a lavish disregard for cost
seldom displayed in the building of even great mansions."
This handsome brick house stands three stories tall with rows of
dormer windows projecting from the roof on all sides. It has huge twin
chimneys which flank a large carved pineapple, the colonial symbol for
hospitality. Two splendid, two-story porticos, each with four white
pillars, set off the front of the building with stylish grace. Inside,
18th century artisans fashioned superb paneling and delicate carvings.
A major design feature is an elegant carved walnut staircase, which
rises for three stories without visible support - the only one of its
kind in America. The entire house is filled with exquisite
furnishings, crested silver, and interesting memorabilia assembled
from the nine generations of the families that have lived there.
Shirley was a well-known center of hospitality 100 years before and
during the American Revolution. George Washington and Thomas Jefferson
were guests there as were numerous other prominent Virginians. There
are also many interesting anecdotes and stories about events that have
transpired at Shirley.
One of the more charming concerns the time a young and beautiful Anne
Hill Carter was carrying a punchbowl across the dining room when it
began slipping from her fingers. She was rescued by a dashing young
military officer - "Light Horse" Harry Lee. Not long afterwards they
were married at Shirley. Their son became one of the most famous of
all Virginians - and Americans. He was Robert E. Lee. Another colorful
tale had its origins during the Civil War when Federal troops occupied
Charles City County. One of the young Carter men who lived at Shirley
then was serving with the Confederate Army when he learned that his
mother was gravely ill at home. Using knowledge of the local terrain
he had learned as a boy, he made his way through Union lines
surrounding the area and sneaked into the house to visit his mother,
only to be betrayed by an unfaithful servant. A Union officer and
several of his men were dispatched to search the mansion. They found
nothing, and were about to abandon their quest when the officer
spotted an entry to the attic behind a concealing bookcase. In the
attic the young Carter hid in back of chimneystacks and apparently
eluded the officer, for he returned to his men saying there was no one
in the attic. Carter waited until dark and then rejoined his troops.
It was not until decades later that a relative of that officer, during
a visit to Shirley, told tour hostesses that young Carter actually had
been seen in the attic, but the officer's "con-science overcame his
compulsion to duty." Perhaps the most compelling legend of Shirley
revolves around the ghost of a former resident and family member. For
Shirley, like a number of its neighboring plantations along the James,
is haunted. This is the fascinating, and, to this day, the
inexplicable story of "Aunt Pratt," or more specifically, of her
famous portrait. She was reportedly a sister of Edward Hill, and was
born late in the 17th century. Little is known of her, but it is said
there always was a certain air of mystery about the woman. Whatever,
one of the things for which Shirley is noted is its fine collection of
family portraits. Apparently, Aunt Pratt's portrait occupied a
suitable place in a downstairs bedroom for a number of years after her
death. Then, as a new generation of the family took over occupancy and
decided to redecorate, the portrait was taken down and banished to the
obscurity of the attic.
Aunt Pratt, or, if you will, her spirit, did not take kindly to this.
In fact, she made what family members described as a "mighty
disturbance." This usually took the form of the sound of a woman
rocking in the attic late at night. A number of guests, as well as
Hills and Carters told of hearing the incessant rocking on certain
nights. Yet when they summoned courage to check the attic, all was
still and quiet. Nothing was amiss, although they admitted getting
chills up their spines when they looked into the eyes of Aunt Pratt's
portrait amidst the dust cobwebs and clutter of the attic. Eventually,
the restlessness of her spirit proved too much for the occupants of
the house. Prudently, they chose to bring the portrait back down and
hang it in its rightful place. Once this was done, the strange rocking
sounds were never heard again. Intriguingly, however, this did not end
the troubled travels of Aunt Pratt.
A few years ago the Virginia Travel Council scoured about the
Commonwealth in search of relics, antiques, and other items associated
with psychic phenomena for a tourist promotion they were assembling in
New York City. Council officials, having heard the story of Aunt
Pratt's ghostly rocking, asked if they might borrow her portrait for
the exhibit. And so, "she" was crated and shipped north. But no sooner
had she been hung on a wall when she once again "came to life," openly
venting her displeasure's at being so far away from home.
According to credible accounts, the portrait was once observed
"swinging" in its display case. Then one-morning workmen found the
portrait lying on the floor several feet away from the case, and, in
their words, "heading toward the exit. "As a security measure,
officials had Aunt Pratt locked up in a closet when not on exhibit.
One night a maintenance crew became unnerved when they heard "knocking
and crying" coming from the locked closet. No one was inside. The next
morning the portrait mysteriously had escaped from the closet and was
lying on the floor outside.
At this point a psychic expert was called in. She studied the portrait
carefully and felt strong sensations. The psychic believed there were
two women involved in the portrait, and two theories were offered in
possible explanation. One contended that there are actually two
portraits, one painted on top of the other. The supposition here is
that the original lady involved has, perhaps for centuries, been
struggling to regain her identity and respect. The other consideration
is that a model perhaps sat in for Aunt Pratt during the original
painting, again pointing to the conceivability of a deep-rooted
identity crisis. Whether or not either of these ideas has any
validity, the psychic expert was convinced that there was indeed a
powerful spiritual phenomenon associated with the portrait; that the
person involved was somehow trying to convey her irritancy at being,
to her mind, indignantly displayed. Many experts agree that spirits
which manifest themselves in the manner Aunt Pratt did, are actually
ghosts of residences who believe, even though they are dead and gone,
that the house they lived in still belongs to them. This seems the
most plausible explanation in Aunt Pratt's instance. Subsequent events
added credence to this line of thought. On its way back south from the
New York showing, the portrait was taken to a shop in Richmond so
repairs could be made on the now battered frame. When it was picked
up, the shop owner said that ever since Aunt Pratt had been in his
care, he heard bells ringing. This, he deemed at best odd, and at
worst, eerily haunting, because, he added, there were no bells of any
kind in his shop. The portrait was then restored once more to its
proper place on a wall in the downstairs bedroom. Since that time,
there have been no further strange occurrences at Shirley. Aunt Pratt,
at last, was home.