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The mood is anticipation rather than fear. Intrigued by the ghostly presence, the new mistress of the house enjoys restoring the spirit’s domicile to its former glory. There is a spine-tingling excitement of discovering fascinating glimpses of life gone by if you browse about the house. Colonel George W. Fish, who was murdered in a bizarre case in 1871, is not a menacing ghost now. He walks about and smiles at the restoration being continued by Dr. and Mrs. Gatewood Dudley; however, he became angry and restive when the house was moved from its original location in Oglethorpe to Americus in 1969. Paying no attention to the tales of spectral appearances, Mr. and Mrs. Donald Nelson decided to move the house. Knowing that M. L. Shealy bought the house from Fish’s widow in 1872 and that it remained in the Shealy family until 1962, the Nelsons smiled as the Shealy's former servants told of people walking around downstairs, and of fights taking place when no one was there, and of arguments seemingly between the ghosts of Colonel Fish and his wife. The Nelsons smiled, until odd things began to happen. It quickly became apparent that this was not to be an ordinary job. The workmen were originally contracted to do some of the preliminary work at night, but they would turn to discover sand and mortar boxes mysteriously upset. |
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"Odd occurrences continued until the crew absolutely refused to work at night," said Don Nelson, an attorney who has now moved to Atlanta. "By working only in the daytime, we finally got underway for the trip to Americus; unfortunately, our troubles had merely begun. The movers were afraid of the house because it would creak and pop and windows would break unexpectedly. Everything possible went wrong - it even went in the ditch. I took a picture while the house was being dismantled. It shows an unexplainable image. It could be a bad photograph; however, it is not a double exposure." |
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At last the house was set upon its new foundation, rebuilt exactly to the specifications of the original. One night after the carpenters had finished and the new owners had moved into the restored house, Nelson was dozing in his chair by the fire in the den. He was aroused when a lean, dark-haired man dressed in old-fashioned clothing walked into the room. "I was not really asleep, but I was not afraid," said Nelson. "We had a pleasant conversation. He told me that he had been very upset about the house being moved; however, since we were restoring it to his liking, he was happy and peaceful. I went to the other room and told Marsha I had talked with Colonel Fish." |
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After that there were no more disturbances and no more arguments to be heard. Evidently Mrs. Fish did not make the trip. Today the ghost is a quiet presence guests sometimes feel upon entering the wide entrance hall. Colonel Fish built the house In 1852, constructing it in a style brought to the Georgia coast by British planters from the West Indies – with a flight of steps left and right leading to the entrance at the second level, the true main floor of the house. The phantom takes no interest in the rooms to the left of the hall even though Dr. Dudley’s library is stocked with history books, especially ones pertaining to old houses, and is furnished with a rare George III library table which the Dudleys purchased in England. Fish does not frequent the sunny music room where the family gathers to build warm memories of their own. Nor does he go into the bedroom and kitchen which are on each end with the back porch stretching between them the entire length of the house. |
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He is definitely felt on the right side of the hall in the large dining room, which is lit entirely by flickering candles because the room has not yet been wired for electricity. Although the Dudley children are not afraid of Colonel Fish, Mrs. Dudley discovered that the younger ones were afraid to pass through this room. Shannon, 6, reached her mother in the kitchen with a breathless, "I made it again." When questioned, she responded, "That man looks at me when I go through the dining room." Mrs. Dudley explained that the portrait was William Harris Crawford, a prominent Georgian. "He is an ancestor and looks at you with kindness," she said, trying to soothe the child. Thus Crawford is accepted into the family circle along with Fish. |
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Fish’s presence is strongest in the front parlor. The twin love seats are reserved for guests, but there is a definite sensation, upon sitting in the red velvet 18th Century English tub chair, that this is his chair. Old volumes of Shakespeare, one of Fish’s favorites, and various history books some family heirlooms and some bought in England as were the Shakespeare and art objects placed about the room invite relaxing with the ghost and enjoying delving into the fascinating chapters of the past. When asked about the red velvet chair and the bookcase, Mrs. Dudley smiled knowingly and replied, "Colonel Fish was a scholarly gentleman. He should be happy with all of these books. He enjoyed reading and provided all of these lovely windows." She indicated the windows behind the red chair. Each window in the upper floor is 5 by 9 feet with 24 panes. Some of the panes are the original hand blown glass, wavery and rainbow-hued in the sunlight. All of the windows on both floors have wooden shutters. As the ground floor is now entirely bedrooms, the ghost is not expected to follow; nevertheless, while descending the stairs at the rear of the hall a slight tightness in the muscles of the back indicates that someone is behind you. He does not usually appear here, but now the children are in school and perhaps a stranger is resented... The dimly lit hallway has no windows, only myriads of doors. One feels a slight trepidation on opening them. They reveal only bedrooms and baths as large as the living rooms of many modern houses. Then why the feeling that you are not alone? Later it is discovered that one of the baths was Fish’s office when he was a prominent lawyer in Oglethorpe, which was a railroad boom town with a population of 15,000 or more in the 1850's. It missed becoming the state capital by one vote. The house was not originally divided into lower sleeping quarters and upper entertaining rooms. The dining room was in the basement story. It was the scene of many dinner parties which were elegant occasions with many courses of soup, numerous meats, vegetables, and so on, accompanied by appropriate wines and champagne. Today’s scenes are equally pleasant though quite different. These are sleeping and playing rooms for the four Dudley children. The furniture, as all over the house, is a charming mixture of 18th Century pieces bought in England, and family heirlooms. The red room features an old family slave bed while other rooms have high poster beds. Old trunks and chests hold childish treasures. The desks, one double and one single, are old school desks bought from a little English school. The color schemes are rich, vibrant colors which also suggest days gone by, while psychedelic posters and modern causes pinned to bulletin boards speak loudly of today. In the rooms are Indian arrowheads picked up at the present house site, Civil War soldiers or other interests which indicate that the children are continuing their parents' love for history. The whole house breathes history. The Dudleys bought the Fish house from their friends the Nelsons, when the Dudleys returned to their native Americus in 1971 after three years in England where Dr. Dudley served at the Air Force Hospital in London. While there, they bought their furniture. Dr. Dudley had always had a sense of family heritage and a love of history and these interests were heightened in England, as was Mrs. Dudley's feeling for ghosts. "We lived in a mammoth 1895 Victorian house, and of course, in England all such houses have ghosts. Ours was a mischievous sprite who tantalized me by flipping out the lights," said Mary Faye Dudley. "Of course the house had very old wiring," interposed Dr. Dudley, smiling indulgently at his attractive young wife. "There was also the matter of a sudden draft of cold air which told me that the locked attic door was open again," she said. "You live with strange occurrences in England and enjoy a feeling for these things." "Part of the enchantment of restoring an old house such as this one is remembering all of the former occupants and the exciting things which occurred during their lifetimes," she continued. "I really developed a feeling for Colonel Fish after reading of his life and death." The story of his murder and the sensational trial as related in the 'History of Macon County’ is really fantastic," said Dr. Dudley. "John Holsenback felt that Colonel Fish had wronged him and determined to get revenge. Jim Loyd advised him to kill Fish, and helped plan the murder. When Fish left for Macon on the afternoon train, Holsenback knew he would return on the late night train and made his preparations. "Knowing that Fish’s gun was in the repair shop, Loyd begged the proprietor to let him borrow it to shoot squirrels, promising to return it before the colonel had need of it. Loyd made the wadding for the gun. Holsenback hid in the doorway to the old courthouse, a door that opens to the side of Taylor’s Pharmacy today, and shot Fish as he was walking home from the train. Holsenback slipped away unseen in the darkness." "The next morning Holsenback summoned the coroner’s jury in order not to arouse suspicion. He even followed the body to the house and helped the undertaker," continued Mrs. Dudley. "As Holsenback was tenderly placing the body in the casket, Mrs. Fish knelt at the side of the coffin and pleaded with God that the assassin might come forward and touch the face of her dead husband. Holsenback’s expression changed and he soon left the house. I believe that took place in the entrance hall or the front parlor." "From this point the story becomes comic opera," said Dr. Dudley, laughing. "As Fish was a prominent man, Gov. Rufus B. Bulloch sent two detectives, named Raspberry and Murphy, to Oglethorpe to find the murderer. They suspected Holsenback but had no proof. After days of following him, Murphy walked up to Holsenback in a shop, picked up a wooden fish basket and looked through it into the guilty man’s eyes saying, 'John Holsenback, you committed that murder.’ Although Murphy was only testing him, Holsenback became frightened and confessed. Loyd was also arrested. "While a cell was being arranged to accommodate both prisoners, the detectives concealed themselves in a goods box converted into a washstand with the open side next to the wall. Loyd began to talk, assuring Holsenback that no guards could hear. They talked all night and by sunrise the next morning had thoroughly discussed the murder. With this confession, the detectives planned to burst out of the box to surprise the prisoners. Rasberry crawled out, but Murphy was too fat and was stuck in the box for a time. At the trial on June 28, 1871, the talkative Loyd spoke for three hours telling so many things that Judge Clark requested those who heard never to reveal what he said. The information was still secret in 1933 when the book was written. "A tremendous crowd came for the hanging - even a flatcar of people from Marshallville. There was a carnival atmosphere. Water was sold for five cents a glass. Holsenback’s estranged wife cheerfully referred to the occasion as a 'gander stretching'. Holsenback was repentant, but not the talkative Loyd. He sat on the steps of the gallows, talked and spat tobacco juice on his coffin which was near by. Holsenback’s body was sent to Columbia County for burial. Loyd asked to be buried in only an undershirt with no buttons and with a sheet wrapped around his waist and body. At his request, he was buried north and south as he said he had always lived crossways with the world. The grave can be seen in Oglethorpe today." Dr. Dudley enjoys such "truth stranger than fiction" that history often reveals. He is especially interested in histories of houses in general and in Americus homes in particular. As president of the newly formed Sumter Historic Preservation Society, he is actively working for the preservation and restoration of homes and commercial buildings of historical or architectural significance. Many of the oldest houses in Americus were moved there from Oglethorpe between 1850 and 1860 because of smallpox and yellow fever epidemics. Only the Dudleys’ was moved more than a century later. Perhaps this is one reason Colonel Fish was disturbed. |
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Many young couples are presently restoring antebellum and Victorian homes to their former glory. They find the large houses comfortable for raising children. Perhaps they are also trying to create a present glory by capturing the elegance of an age when time moved more slowly and each moment was savored; when life was lived with flair and even meals were events. The most significant of these houses are being permanently marked as a loop off Andersonville Trail. Today, April 29, 1973, some of them will be open on a tour conducted by the Sumter Historic Preservation Society. When Mary Faye Dudley invites you into her entrance hall, the elegant Colonel Fish will be smiling upon the entertaining. But don’t sit in the red velvet chair. |
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| The Atlanta Journal and Constitution Magazine, April 29, 1973 | |
| Photo Credit: Photography by Floyd Jillson | |
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