On Christmas Eve 2015, I hung out in the shadows at Pen Ryn Mansion with the hope and intention of witnessing a legend about which has been around for centuries in my part of the woods.
The history of the estate, where an alleged supernatural spectacle occurs, has been spotlighted in a previous series posted on these pages.
As noted in the comments of that blog entry, nothing outrageous appeared, nor was there any evidence of unusual screaming and whiplashes heard or felt.
I had this indescribable urge to head out there again on Christmas Eve 2016.
This time a camera accompanied me to take video footage of my time spent again with my hoping to behold an ethereal experience, showcasing the rising of Robert Bickley from the Delaware River, shortly before midnight.
Along with his horrific display of chimeric hoopla, Robert’s new bride is purported to be on hand, holding a whip while riding upon a magnificent black steed, all of which has never been truly witnessed on film or video before.
J.D. Mullane, a local reporter, wrote about this eerie tale in the Bucks County Courier Times. Taken from his article dated 24th December 2009:
I’ve investigated this legend and can report that no one living of sober credibility can attest to ever seeing the vexed spirit of Robert Bickley rising from the river. But maybe they weren’t there at the right time, say on a Christmas Eve midnight when the moon is high and wood smoke and iced black silence hang over the Delaware.
Last year, the moon was full for the event, but was obscured by clouds. Last night the moon hadn’t risen yet, making for a pitch-black night from no lights being lit at the mansion, except for the red glow of an exit sign inside the house.
I hadn’t touched any alcohol prior to my arrival either in case something happened, so J.D. Mullane wouldn’t be able to disavow my sober credibility.
However, a few shots of Jack Daniels landed promptly in my gut upon my arrival home.
A good friend sent me new set of serving-ware as a Christmas gift this year. I used the tumbler to down the demon alcohol.
She told me the US Postal Service made her remove the whiskey bottle from the box, as they prohibited its shipment in the mail.
I wonder why?
Perhaps it’s because of the possibility of breakage and spillage, making a mess and resulting with the immediate area’s smelling like a distillery.
At my next visit to the post office, I hope to find out the answer to that conundrum.
The chocolates are now history. They were very tasty, indeed. I especially liked the coconut-filled number which had a creamy center and was covered in white chocolate. All of them were quite palatable albeit.
As another friend wrote about some chocolates I had sent her, “The sweets have passed my lips and are now settled around my hips.”
Getting back to the original premise of this essay, my Nikon sat on a tripod over the transmission hump of the Cooper to capture the moment.
The following is a clip I put together and is narrated by yours truly about a very spooky experience, not for the faint of heart:
Happy Holidays, as we’ve yet to celebrate New Years, for which I send my best wishes for a healthy, successful, peaceful and joyful 2017 for all.
Thanks for stopping by and for your continued support.