Latest / Common Mystics / Boo Review #6: The Sage of Poughkeepsie
Transcript
- 0:10Speaker A: Good evening and welcome to the BOO Review. I'm Jill Stanley. Tonight we delve into the extraordinary story of Rosanna Clark, also known as the Sage of Poughkeepsie. Her story comes to us from the horn of the Green Mountains out of Manchester, Vermont. Dated Tuesday, November 16, 1830, it's a tale steeped in mystery and intrigue. It unearthed the heroic deeds of this ordinary woman whose supernatural encounter led to the resolution of a series of gruesome murders. For more on this, please welcome Jennifer James at the Bulletin desk. Jennifer?
- 0:57Speaker B: Thanks, Jill. In the winter of 1826, Rosanna Clark was a free black woman living in Poughkeepsie, New York, and many said she was the finest dressmaker in the Hudson River Valley. She and her husband David owned their own shop on Oak street and were highly respected by their neighbors. Rosanna was a faithful member of her local church and a member in good standing of the local chapter of the Anti Slavery Society. She considered herself down to earth and rational and not at all outlandish or flighty in her beliefs, which is why she absolutely refused to believe that she was seeing a ghost in her front yard. She had happened to glance up from her work and saw a stranger outside, a young man with wet, sandy colored hair and soaking wet clothes, leaning against her garden wall, looking lost. Rosanna was wary, but since the Erie Canal had just opened, there were often strangers passing through town on their way west. David had gone to New York buying fabric, but James, their gardener, was within earshot and she asked him to check on the young man in the garden and find out where he was headed and whether he needed any help. James returned a few moments later, confused, and said he had seen no one in the garden. Rosanna could still see the young man from her window and sent James out again. And again James returned, apologetic, unable to discern anyone in the yard. Exasperated by these proceedings and unable to return to her work, Rosanna headed to the yard herself. The young man looked up at her as soon as she emerged from her home. In a soft voice sounding almost apologetic, he said his name was Jacob Pound and he had been cutting ice on the Hudson river, but he had fallen through. Then he asked if Rosanna would be kind enough to tell his mother and Milton, who was looking for him, that he was stuck against a twisted oak tree on the west bank of the river. Rosanna, flabbergasted, said nothing at this. A moment later, young Jacob Pound vanished before her eyes in the empty air and was gone. Rosanna did send a message with James across The river to Milton and folks raised up quite a stir when the mortal remains of young Mr. Pound were discovered right where the note described. Rosanna gained something of a reputation at this point, but no such thing happened to her again until the following spring. Late one night, Rosanna snapped awake in alarm. She was not sure if it was a sound she had heard, but in her sleep addled mind she thought someone or something had touched her. David was gone to New York again and there was no one in the house but her young children. Rosanna waited a moment in the dark before hearing a soft sound like a wheezing breath. She called her children's names softly, but there was no reply. There was the sound of a footstep in her bedroom and then a second drawing closer to her bed. Suddenly she felt something in the dark close around her throat as a loud and ragged moan filled the room. Rosanna could not breathe. She could not scream. Her entire bed began to shake. A framed picture bounced against the wall and her bedroom windows rattled. Rosanna struggled to rise, but the grip. Her throat tightened. Her throat felt as if it was filled with burning coals. Sparks flashed before her eyes. She tried to pray but could not utter a word. All at once the grip released her and she took several shuddering breaths. The room stopped shaking, but she felt a presence there with her on the floor. She could see the form of a tall, slim brown haired man, perhaps 25, with yellow skin, clutching his throat and thrashing in agony. The front of his shirt was stained with vomit and as she watched, he raised up to his hands and knees and heaved a stinking putrescence upon her bedroom wall. Then, with a final lurch, he fell to the floor and grew still. As Rosanna watched, she could see the shapes of others, half seen above the man. Two sneering women and a cruel looking man. They searched the man's pockets, taking his cash and a gold watch. Then they wrapped him in a sheet, dragged him down to a wooden pier and pitched him into the river. As the terrible images faded. At last, there was a final gasping whisper in the dark. I was Robert Penfield. Rosanna tried to catch her breath. She raced from her bed to check on her children. But they were sleeping easily in their beds, blissfully unaware of the violent cacophony. Rosanna prayed until her pounding heart was calm again before returning to bed, trying to make sense of what she had experienced. In time, she thought about young Jacob Pound and how he had come to her in peace and sought her help. And much of her fear left her. These Phantasms were not here to harm her, but to ask for help. And she prayed to the Lord that he help her aid the spirit which came to her. No sooner had she shut her eyes again when she heard a heavy thud. The sound repeated again and again, like someone was thumping a heavy post against her bedroom floor. She opened her eyes and saw the form of another man, this one dressed like a sailor with light hair and pale blue eyes, staggering drunkenly upon a darkened street. She heard another thump and the man seemed to hear it too. And he turned at the sound and saw two women holding clubs and a man holding a heavy wooden post. Before the blue eyed man could do more than raise his hands, the trio struck at him with their weapons. The man fell at the first heavy blow and they rained vicious blows upon him. Rosanna's bedroom filled with the sound of plaintive cries. Rosanna could almost feel each impact on the helpless victim. They beat the man for a long time before his cries ended, and then they searched his pockets, taking what money they found and a silver chain. Next, they wrapped him in a sheet, dragged him to the river's edge and dumped him into the dark water. The images started to fade again, but this time Rosanna called out softly into the darkness. Who are you? A voice answered. I was Hezekiah west and I was murdered by Stratton Butler eight weeks ago on the 4th of February. Rosanna knew the name and she knew the man, and the man was one she frequently warned her children to avoid. Butler was known to be cruel to children and vicious with animals, but her blood chilled to think of him as a murderer as well. I will tell your story, Hezekiah. There was no answer. For a third time that night, Rosanna heard phantom sounds rising in her bedroom. This time she saw a man older than the others, perhaps 50, wearing a long gray scarf and a ruby ring, slowly backing away from a pair of women holding knives. Rosanna heard a woman's voice, Stratton's sister, threatening that they would bury their knives in the man's blood. Suddenly they rushed onto him with their long knives drawn, uttering horrid imprecations, and carried out their threat, stabbing him again and again, hooting and laughing at his cries. At length they stood back from the wounded man and he staggered and fell. He lifted up his hands for mercy, choking and sobbing and bleeding from his many wounds. The Strattons mocked his feeble cries and drove the knives deeper than before, until at last he expired. The women searched their victim for money and took whatever they Fancied, including the ruby ring. Then they dragged his body to the river's edge and hurled him into the icy water. Tell me your name, spirit, and I will do what I can to ease your pain. I was Robert Copeland. I was murdered and robbed two weeks ago by the Strattons. My body lies under a tangle of fallen trees and ice south of the ice House where the river bends. I will tell your story, spirit, and see that justice is done so you can rest. In the morning, Rosanna walked to the police office and told the magistrate under oath what she had experienced the night before. She told him what the Strattons had done, where their victims bodies might be found in the river and that among the possessions taken were a gold watch, a silver chain and a ruby ring. The magistrate knew Rosanna by her reputation and he found her testimony credible. Deputies searched the river and found the bodies of the three murder victims. They searched the Stratton's house and found the gold watch, the silver chain, the ruby ring and evidence of other crimes. Upon being questioned, the Strattons each turned on the others until each condemned the rest by their own admissions. So were the bodies of the victims laid to rest and the guilty punished. And as for Rosanna Clark, she remained a respected down to earth community member and faithful churchgoer for the rest of her life. Even as her local celebrity grew, drawing hundreds to see the wise woman on Oak street known affectionately as the Sage of Poughkeepsie. Back to you, Jill.
- 12:06Speaker A: Wow. Thank you for that, Jennifer. What a brave woman whose extraordinary ability not only exposed those sinister deeds, but also brought justice to the departed souls. Well, that's it for tonight's edition of the BOO Review. Thank you so much for tuning in. The BOO Review is a Common Mystics Media production in association with Access Paranormal Story by Dennis Brose Edited by Yokai Audio, Kalamazoo, Michigan for more information, please check out our website commonmystics.net Tune in to Common Mystics podcast wherever you're listening to your favorite podcast. Thank you so much. Good night.