Latest / Common Mystics / Boo Review #9: The Milkwoman’s Daughter in Endfield, PA
Transcript
- 0:00Speaker A: Foreign Good evening and welcome to the BOO Review. I'm Jill Stanley. Tonight's story comes to us from the Pennsylvania Gazette of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, dated Thursday, February 24, 1729. It's a chilling story out of the Bauer farm in Enfield, Pennsylvania. This story has mysterious apparitions to unexplained phenomenon. Please join us as we explore the legend of the milk woman's daughter. For more on this, let's welcome Jennifer James at the Bulletin desk. Jennifer?
- 0:51Speaker B: Thanks, Jill. In the quaint, picturesque town of Enfield, Pennsylvania, nestled amid rolling hills and vibrant meadows, residents often marveled at a peculiar anomaly. The milkwoman, Adelaide Bauer possessed such a bitter disposition that it was a wonder her milk remained sweet and fresh. Adelaide was a woman of harsh temperament, living out her days on the sprawling Bauer dairy farm with her subdued husband Henry and their 13 year old daughter Marlena, dominating her household with a steely resolve that seemed to permeate the very air. Adelaide's cruelty and venomous words were legendary among the townsfolk. Henry, a gentle soul with a heart as wide as the farm's farthest fields, maintained a safe distance from his acerbic wife, preferring the relative solace of the barn, the company of the cows, and his beloved daughter, Marlena. Marlena was remarkably unique. Born from physically smaller on one side and with a pronounced limp that didn't slow her spirited explorations, she never acquired speech. Instead, Marlena communicated with the world through a language of her own. Expressive grunts, squeals and radiant smiles and emphatic stomps. Despite her challenges, Marlena's spirit was unbreakable, her eyes shining with a gentle, hopeful light unmatched even by the radiant morning sun. Marlena's resilience and perpetually sunny disposition seemed only to fuel her mother's anger and resentment. Adelaide resented her daughter's inability to assist with the more demanding chores on the farm or to be left unsupervised, which she viewed as additional burdens on her already heavy load. While Henry managed the farm work, Marlena diligently shadowed her mother from dawn until dusk, assisting her as best she could with the daily tasks of milking cows, gathering firewood and running errands to the market. Townsfolk often noted the stark contrast between Adelaide's spiteful cold demeanor and the gentle, loving nature of Marlena, who was frequently seen clutching a bouquet of wildflowers, offering sweet smiles to all she encountered on their way to market. One fateful morning, tragedy struck. Adelaide arrived in town her usual composure shattered, dishevelled and breathless, her milk wagon barren except for a few spilled bottles that lay forlornly on its wooden floor. With a tremor in her voice, she alerted the townsfolk to an accident, leading a growing anxious crowd up the winding tree lined road to the site where their horse spooked at a snake, causing a terrified Marlena to fall into a deep, unseen ravine. Marlena lay motionless below, her body tragically broken by the fall, her vibrant spirit extinguished too soon. The crowd lifted the girl gingerly and laid her softly in the wagon. Henry, upon seeing Marlena's motionless figure, urgently summoned the local doctor, only to find that he was attending to a patient in a distant village. Unable to wait, he desperately sought an alternative and managed to enlist the services of a well respected surgeon from a nearby town. Upon arrival, the surgeon conducted a thorough examination of the girl. Utilizing all his expertise and knowledge, he prodded her, and he poked her and stuck her in the arm with a pin. After several tense moments, he ultimately pronounced the girl dead, leaving the community to grapple with their sorrow. The old farmhouse quickly became the focal point of a community vigil that extended from the early hours of the day into the deep, quiet hours of the night. This solemn gathering became a magnet for individuals both from the local vicinity and those traveling from distant places, all coming together to honor the memory of a young girl whose vibrant presence had once infused their small town with immense joy and vitality. The vigil, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of numerous candles flickering in the unsettling quiet of the night, evoked waking nightmares. Each shadow seemed to dance with a life of its own, instilling a deep sense of dread and ominous foreboding that gripped the hearts of all present, casting a sinister pall over the gathering. Then a tumultuous scene unfolded as Adelaide and Henry found themselves embroiled in a heated debate. Henry, with a tone of desperation, insisted that he had carefully held a looking glass to Marlena's lips and observed a faint mist, a subtle breath from Marlena. Adelaide countered fiercely, her voice steady with conviction. She argued that Henry was mistaken. There was no mist on the glass. Marlena had indeed passed away. Despite Henry's pleas, Adelaide remained firm, stating unequivocally that Marlena's time had come and that her burial would proceed as scheduled in the morning, leaving no room for further discussion. The townspeople of Endfield mourned deeply at Marlena's funeral, with Henry openly grieving the loss of his vibrant daughter, his tears mingling with the rain that fell softly on the mourners. Adelaide, however, remained emotionless, her facade impenetrable even as whispers of doubt and supernatural occurrences circulated among the mourners. As night fell, the last of the townspeople dispersed, carrying with them heavy hearts and whispered suspicions, while Henry and Adelaide returned to their home. Adelaide prepared for bed at once, listing out loud the chores which awaited them in the morning. But Henry sat in the darkness without even a lit candle for company. Then, overwhelmed by grief, Henry found himself pausing as a faint, familiar squeal reached his ears, a sound he recognized as belonging to Marlena. Driven by a mixture of hope and desperation, he followed the sound through the dimly lit hallways of the old farmhouse. As he turned a corner, his heart skipped a beat when he saw a spectral figure standing at the end of the hallway. It was a haunting image of his daughter, her expression etched with fear and confusion, as if she was both lost and searching for solace. Shaken by his horrifying suspicion, he rushed to the barn, grabbed a shovel, and raced to his daughter's grave. Amidst the thick, clinging mud, he fought with every ounce of his strength, frantically working to unearth Marlena's coffin, illuminated solely by the eerie glow of the full moon overhead. His efforts became a race against time as he dug deeper into the earth's embrace. And then, with trembling hands and tear filled eyes, he pried open the lid and beheld a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his days. There in the moonlight, lay his daughter with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her once delicate hands were now scraped and shredded, the nails torn and bloody from her futile attempts to claw her way out of the suffocating darkness, the wildflower bouquet bitten to pieces. Henry's anguished cry pierced the still night, alerting the neighbors who rushed to discover the grim truth. Soon afterward, Henry, broken by grief and the unbearable weight of loss, departed Enfield forever, tormented by his inability to rescue his beloved daughter. Adelaide, now shunned and alone, sold the farm and retreated into a life of solitude, her once sharp tongue silenced by the overwhelming shadow of her actions. For decades, the successive owners of the old Bauer farm have consistently reported eerie occurrences that have left them feeling both intrigued and unsettled. Many have talked about hearing strange, unidentifiable squeals echoing in the dead of the night, or catching the brief flash of gleaming eyes watching them from the shadows. More unsettling are the tales that on the night of a full moon, the ghostly figure of a young girl can be seen wandering the farm's dilapidated fields. This spectral presence has become a chilling legend among the locals along the serpentine path that skirts the perilous Ravine. Many wagons and swift carriages have been miraculously spared from catastrophe by the sudden, mysterious emergence of an adolescent girl distinguished by her unmistakable limp, who appears just in time to guide them away from danger. Thus, in the small town of Enfield, Pennsylvania, the tragic tale of the Milk Woman's daughter lingers. Whispered on wind swept nights and remembered in the mournful sighs of the rolling hills. Especially when two gleaming eyes are said to be visible in the darkness. A poignant reminder of the spirit of a girl whose life was cruelly ended too soon, but whose presence is forever etched in the heart of the community. Back to you, Jill.
- 12:44Speaker A: Thank you, Jennifer, for that sorrowful tale of the Milk Woman's daughter. And thank you for joining us. For everyone at the BOO Review, we wish you a good evening. I'm Jill Stanley. Till next time. The BOO Review is a common Mystics Media production in association with Access Paranormal Story by Dennis Brose Editing by Yokai Audio, Kalamazoo, Michigan.