NEPRONOMICON

 

Gruesome Dead of Groton

Part I:  BACKGROUND HISTORY

             Groton has the dubious honor of being Connecticut’s bloodiest town.  The two goriest massacres in the state’s history were committed within a few miles of each other; the first committed by the colonists upon Native Americans, the other inflicted upon the colonists more than a century later by the British.  It is as if the region itself is cursed with a legacy of violence.  Yet Groton residents are proud of their military tradition, as evidenced by monuments, battlefield parks and memorials, and carried on even today by the nearby Coast Guard Academy and Naval Submarine Base in its sister city of New London.

            Groton’s bloody legacy began with the earliest years of the Connecticut colony’s settlement, and the genocide that followed.  Before Puritan settlers from Massachusetts came to the Connecticut River Valley and shoreline in the early 17^th Century, most of southern Connecticut belonged to the powerful Native American tribe of Pequots.  The River Valley tribes, fearing the warlike Pequots, invited the English to come and settle, in the hope that they might keep the Pequots at bay.  An inevitable and violent clash followed, in which horrific atrocities were committed by Englishman and Pequot alike.  The Pequot War of 1637 saw several skirmishes, raids and battles—culminating in the Great Swamp Fight in what would become Fairfield, but the greatest and most decisive encounter of all was at a Pequot stronghold known as Fort Mystic.  Historians have different viewpoints, some referring to the lurid events of Friday, 26 May 1637, as the “Battle of Fort Mystic,” others as the “Mystic Massacre.”  Be it battle or massacre, however, all agree it was an unequivocal victory for the Puritans which forever broke the back of Pequot power in the region.

            The 110 English that comprised the expedition, armored in breastplates and helmets and armed with matchlock muskets, were led by Captains Underhill and Mason.  Escorted by their Narragansett and Mohegan allies to the Pequot fort, the Puritan militia sneak attacked the palisade fort before an alarm could be raised.  Wigwams were set afire during the fighting and the Puritans withdrew to surround the fort.  As the community within the round palisade became a raging inferno, Pequots fleeing the flames were mercilessly and methodically shot down by musket balls.  Those who never made it out of the fort were burned alive, screaming.  Of the several hundred Pequots (numbers are hotly debated among historians, anywhere from 300 to 700) within the fort, only seven survived to seek shelter as slaves among the Puritan’s Mohegan or Narragansett allies while another seven escaped altogether.  English losses were only two killed in the fighting and twenty wounded (which has led some researchers to conclude that the fort was primarily composed of noncombatant woman and children—the men believed to have been out hunting at the time).  The place has ever after been known as Pequot Hill.

            Mason later wrote of the experience, “Thus did the Lord judge among the heathen, filling the place with dead bodies!”  The Reverend Increase Mather, upon learning of the massacre, exhorted his faithful to “thank God that on this day we have sent 600 heathen souls to Hell!” 

            Now, fast forward 144 years to 6 September 1781.  Colonists now consider themselves Yankees, not Puritans, and are ready to assert their independence from what they consider a tyrannical Great Britain.  The colonies are in full rebellion, and the British have decided to crush the coastal fort that the Groton colonists erected to protect their port town.  Under the leadership of the traitor Benedict Arnold, the British forces first burn the city of New London.  Arnold then orders a subordinate, Lt. Col. Eyre, to take his 800 trained British soldiers and assault the fort on the Groton bank.

            Col. Ledyard commands the 150 American defenders in what he must know to be a hopeless battle.  The fort is taken within 40 minutes of heated fighting.  What follows next is a matter of considerable controversy between British and American historians.

            According to American eyewitness accounts at the time, Ledyard then surrendered the fort and its surviving American defenders (these accounts contend that only about 10 Americans were killed in the actual fighting).  He offered his sword to Captain Bloomfield, a British officer, as a ritual token of honorable surrender.  Col. Ledyard was then repaid for his trouble by being stabbed to death with his own sword by Cpt. Bloomfield.  Indiscriminate firing then took place by the British troops upon the Americans, all of whom had already lain down their weapons.  Another British officer attempted to stop the massacre and ordered a cease fire… too late for most of the defenders.  His command, though followed, was not popular among the troops, who then loaded the few wounded survivors into a wagon, rolled it to the top of a nearby hill, then released to send it crashing down into a copse of apple trees.  One American who survived even the crash of the wagon and tried to crawl away had his skull crushed in with the butt of a British musket.  Healthier survivors were taken prisoner, to die at sea in the notorious disease-ridden prison ships, or to later be released.  At least 85 Americans were killed on the spot, or were mortally wounded and died shortly afterward.  Some wounded who survived were taken by locals to the nearby Ebenezer Avery house to be treated.

            British losses were recorded to have been 51 killed in the assault and 142 wounded.  Even after the battle and the massacre that followed, the British showed little mercy to the corpses of American dead (and precious little concern for their own).  In the words of the esteemed historian John Warner Barber, “The killed of the enemy were buried by their comrades at the gate of the fort, and were so slightly covered that many of their legs and arms remained above ground; our people who were killed at the fort, were stripped, and so disfigured, covered with blood and dust, that with the exception of two or three, they could not be recognized by their friends…”

            Today, Fort Griswold and the Groton Monument, a granite obelisk 134 feet high, mark the site on Mount Ledyard.  An inscription in marble, over the entrance of the monument, reads:

 

This Monument

was erected under the patronage of the State of Connecticut, A.D. 1830,

and in the 55^th year of the Independence of the U.S.A.

In memory of the brave Patriots,

who fell in the massacre at Fort Griswold, near this spot,

on the 6^th of September, A.D. 1781,

when the British, under the command of

the traitor Benedict Arnold,

burnt the towns of New London and Groton, and spread

desolation and woe throughout the region.

 

            On the south side of the pedestal is inscribed a list of 85 names, of the Americans who fell at the fort on September 6^th.  But the story does not end there…

            So much trauma and death, despite a paucity of supernatural lore, seemed a good indicator of a possible paranormal hotspot.            At least one other paranormal investigation of Fort Griswold had taken place, in July of 2005 (the article can be found at www.hauntedtimes.com) by members of the New England Paranormal Research Agency and the Atlantic Coast Paranormal Research Group.  They claim to have retrieved sporadic pieces of evidence such as photos and EVPs.  Are the battlefields of Fort Griswold and Fort Mystic truly haunted?  Our team could barely wait to find out…

  

SOURCES:

 Allyn, Charles.  The Battle of Groton Heights: A Collection of Narratives, Official Records, etc., of the Storming of Ft. Griswold.  Salem, MA: Higginson Book Company, 1882.

 Barber, John Warner.  Connecticut Historical Collections.  New Haven, CT: Durrie & Peck and J.W. Barber, 1838. p. 307-318.

 Larrabee, Betsey Barber.  The Story of the Battle of Fort Griswold and Groton Heights Monument.  Groton, CT: Anna Warner Bailey Chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, 1960.

  

For Directions and Park Info:

 http://dep.state.ct.us/stateparks/parks/fort_griswold.htm

 

 Part II: THE INVESTIGATION, day 1

             I first drove out to Fort Griswold on the afternoon of Wednesday 17 September 2006, to get some good daytime photos of area.  I knew the group would be coming out for a night investigation the following evening, but I also knew that good photos of the monument, museum and other buildings would be difficult at night.  I also hoped to pinpoint the location of the Fort Mystic massacre, which I knew to have occurred on what is now Pequot Hill.

            I spent a very scenic and peaceful time photographing the impressive monument (a giant obelisk reaching up to the sky) and the nearby museum (the interiors of both the monument and museum were unfortunately already closed to the public).  I then moved on to Fort Griswold proper and snapped pics of the ruined hill-like fortifications, the gate and its placard listing the dead and fallen of the battle, stones marking the death sites of the American Colonel Ledyard and British officer William Montgomery (both with inscribed placards commemorating the site), the Ebenezer Avery House (where the wounded were taken after the battle—also closed to the public at that time), the historic Powder Magazine building and the Shot Furnace.  The impressive stone entrance gate, with its cannon and bronze plaque listing the American dead, wounded and escaped, stands directly across from the street sign marking the intersection of Park Avenue and Monument Street.  My only companions were a few artists painting scenes of the New London-Groton harbor on their easels and some wandering tourists.

            Though I acquired many good photos, none were remotely paranormal, nor did I get any strange or eerie feelings about the place.  It just felt very peaceful, as if the hundred and thirty or so British and American dead had long since reconciled themselves to rest.

            My drive to nearby Pequot Avenue, on Pequot Hill, proved fruitless.  The place was entirely residential, without a single historic stature, placard, or monument of any kind to commemorate the bloody massacre that had occurred beneath the quiet suburban homes.  Absolutely nothing of public land to investigate remained.  In speaking with one local, I learned that a statue of Captain John Mason (leader of the colonists in the massacre of Native Americans) had existed at the junction of what is now the intersection of Clift Street and Pequot Avenue.  The statue has since been removed, supposedly at the request of modern Pequots (it may have been relocated to Weston, CT), and only a Monkey Tree plant remains to mark the spot.  I asked a friendly local who had lived on the hill more than thirty years if she had every witnessed any unusual phenomena on the street.  She laughed good-humoredly, “No, no, nothing like that.”

 

Part II: THE INVESTIGATION, day 2

             Matt and I returned to Fort Griswold on the evening of Thursday 18 September 2006.  Gail was unable to join us due to a sudden illness, and Seth and Haydon had work commitments that prevented them coming.  Instead, we took our newest investigator-in-training, Trisha.

            Trisha had contacted us through our website and expressed an interest in becoming a member of the team.  We had interviewed her previously, and Matt and I were both impressed with her enthusiasm, friendliness and personality.  Though she had no previous experience in field investigations of any sort, she was eager to learn.  We brought with us two Sony camcorders with night-shot, an EMF meter, and two digital voice recorders.  I also brought my cheap digital camera for still photos, though I was not too hopeful of any quality pics, given the openness of the terrain and the limited flash of my camera.  Even if we found no paranormal evidence, Matt and I figured the expedition would be a good training experience for Trisha.

            We walked throughout the interior and exterior of the fort.  One video camera Matt set up looking upon Colonel Ledyard’s death site, the other Trisha and I took to roam about and see what we could capture.  We got footage of all the sites worth seeing, including the tunnel known as the Covered Way leading from the interior to the exterior of the fort.  Strong winds and the presence of a small group of teenagers that came to wander about briefly complicated the investigation.  Added to this, the open layout of the site proved difficult to cover with just three people.

            Trisha also roved the interior of the fort, where the massacre proper had occurred, asking questions of the dead while holding the voice recorder and EMF meter.  Neither of us observed any unusual EMF readings or spikes.  In fact, the needle remained at one or below the entire time.  Trisha thought she captured her first EVP at one point when she asked of any entities present, “Are you at peace?” and thought she recorded a voice that said, “yes.”  Upon later analysis, this proved to be merely wind.

            Hours later, just before Matt and I decided to pack it in and call it a night, we laid upon the battlement facing the harbor.  I continued to ask questions, allowing thirty seconds or so between, into my recorder.  Later analysis would show this to be the time of our only captured evidence from the investigation.  While looking down upon the field where the British would have marched upon the fort’s defenders, I asked “Did any of you know that you would die that day?”

            An EVP was recorded almost immediately afterward.  It distinctly sounds like a male voice, in a whisper and at a very low hertz range that a human voice could not have made.  What is being said, however, would later be debated by every member of the team that listened to it.  It sounds like an answer to my question, possibly the word “probably” or maybe even “from the sea.”  It is a Class “C” EVP at best, and the only evidence of anything paranormal gathered that night.

            As far as personal experiences, none of us reported having felt any uneasiness at any time.  In fact, we all agreed the place, even at night, was one of serenity and peace.  It is certainly worth visiting, but be respectful of those who died there and of the history of the place.  The history alone is worth the trip, even if the place isn’t a paranormal hotspot.  Though the park is technically closed after sunset, the gates seem to remain open at all hours, and nobody seems to mind nocturnal travelers who quietly pass through.