Long ago and far away, in the Blue Ridge mountains I call my home, a tale was begun and still lives on in the frightened souls of those who lived it...
A hundred years ago or more, it was once the home of a wealthy family who moved to Virginia from up North somewhere. Their name was D'Arque.
From the beginning, they seemed strange to the locals. They kept to themselves-people didn't even know their names with the exception of their lovely red haired daughter Annabelle. Annie to those who came to know and love her. Annie faithfully attended church every Sunday in the small clapboard chapel in the village. She was kind and loving to everyone she met.
Those were troubled times. The ominous approach of war was inevitable. The D'Arque family owned no slaves, but neither did they proclaim to be abolitionists. Shortly before war was declared, Mr. and Mrs. D'Arque left for an extended holiday in Europe. Annie and the servants were left to fend for themselves in the lonely mansion.
All was well for a time. That part of Virginia was isolated and potected by the mountains. The war seemed to be very far away. But eventually times grew lean, and Annie's parents still did not return. Why had they virtually abandoned her to her fate?
When the money ran out, Annie dismissed the servants, and lived on alone as the mansion began to crumble around her. The gardens grew wild and an aura of desolation settled over the estate.
On a cold winter night a troup of Union soldiers on their way to join General Sherman found their way to the samll village. Finding the young girl all alone, the most horrific nightmares became a reality for Annie. Her home was ransacked, the furnishings destroyed, paintings burned, and anything of value stolen. We do not speak of the horrors visited on poor Annie. But when the soldiers rode away the mansion still stood and Annie still lived. Worst of all, she carried a child.
Annie bravely carried on as best she could. Through the spring, the summer, and finally the fall. Indian summer had seemed to last forever but the end of October came, the weather turned, and it was time for the birth of Annie's child. My great great grandmother was the midwife who attended Annie that night. What happened has been passed from one generation of our family to the next so that we might never forget the dark secret.
It was All Hallow's Eve. It was cold and raining as Annie labored all through the day to bring her child into the world. Finally just before midnight the child was born. A little boy, so terribly deformed he did not even seem human. My grandmother could not believe that such a creature could live. Hiding the babe from Annie my grandmother told her it had died. And Annie who was herself near unto death asked no questions. Fearing for her soul and begging forgiveness for what she was about to do, my grandmother gently laid a pillow across the face of Annie's poor deformed child and smothered him. She buried his little body in our small family cemetary so that noone would ever know how of his inhuman deformity. She did these things to try and give Annie a chance at a normal life once the war ended and good times came again. Surely the poor thing could not have lived very long on his own and this way he did not suffer. Surely it was better to send it's innocent soul to be with God.
Only a few weeks later a change had come over Annie. Her beauty now faded, her smile no longer seen. She roamed the dark hallways of her empty mansion, always thinking she had heard her baby cry. She could be found lying on the grave in the cemetary as if she were listening to a voice from within. The townspeople were frightened by her and as time went on they began calling her witch.
Poor Annie lived out the rest of her days alone and shunned by the town. Only my grandmother understood that Annie was lost in grief. Our family made sure she always had food and such and we cared for her until she died a very old lady in that accursed house.
The house has been empty since my mother was a very little girl. But people swear that they see the light of Annie's candle burning in the windows at night as she walks the halls ever searching for her lost baby. I've seen it myself. I believe she is still there and always will be.
