Letter From The Beyond

Godfrey Barnsley" by Source (WP:NFCC#4)

Godfrey Barnsley was born in Derbyshire, England on August 26, 1805. His father owned a cotton mill and as Godfrey grew up, he was taught all aspects of the cotton business. In early 1824, while still only 18 years of age, Godfrey immigrated to America seeking his fortune. 

Settling in Savannah, Georgia, he became involved in the lucrative trade of brokering cotton. Buying cotton at a low price in the south which was awash in the crop and selling at a much inflated price to England, it wasn't long before Godfrey became wealthy. In early 1828, he met Julia Scarborough, the daughter of wealthy ship builder William Scarborough and on December 24 of that same year, the two were married. Godfrey and his father-in-law developed a close friendship and with William's help, Godfrey began shipping his cotton to England with his own fleet of ships. The Barnsley family became one of the richest in the whole south.

By 1842, Godfrey and Julia had 6 children. Godfrey deeply loved his wife so when Julia's health began to deteriorate that year, he sought out the best doctors in Savannah. Due to the heat and humid conditions of the city, yellow fever and malaria were constant threats and when the doctors told Godfrey his wife would be better served to live in a more hospitable climate, he began searching for a better location. He found land near Adairsville, Georgia to be suitable so he bought 3,600 acres of woods and valleys which used to be occupied by the Cherokee Indians until they were forcibly removed onto a reservation. 

Godfrey had plans drawn up for a grand estate and had his ships seeking out and bringing back marble from Italy and exquisite furniture, windows, exotic shrubbery and plants from around the world. Julia loved roses so he purchased and had planted in ornate gardens every known variety of rose bush in the world. The mansion, designed as an Italian Villa, was to have 24 rooms and such ultra-modern features as hot-and-cold running water. By April, 1845, the mansion and gardens were still under construction, but were complete enough to allow the family to move in and get away from the heat in Savannah. Shortly after moving in though, things took a nasty turn.

In May, Julia's father died. It was a terrible time for the Barnsley family as William was much loved by all. Just a few weeks later, Godfrey and Julia's infant son became ill and quickly died. It was devastating for the family who was still grieving over the death of William, but the worst was to come just a month later when Julia's health took a decided downward turn and in late summer, she passed away of tuberculosis. Godfrey buried his beloved wife next to their son in one of the estate's beautiful gardens. 

For weeks afterward, Godfrey spent hours every day sitting in the garden which held Julia's remains. He said he felt her presence there and could often be seen talking to her grave. Work on the mansion and grounds had ceased upon Julia's death, but one day he came from the garden and ordered work to resume as Julia had spoken to him saying the home should be finished for their children and future generations.

For the next two years, work continued on the home and gardens until it was at long last complete. Godfrey, still openly grieving, could be seen visiting Julia's grave daily. He doted on the children, but even with the comfort they provided, he seemed adrift since her death. He even lost interest in his business, but it continued to be profitable due to the dedication and business acumen of the managers he had hired to run it for him.

Over the years, he continued to be so depressed that his children and friends began to worry he might commit suicide in order to rejoin the love of his life. They tried to find anything that would bring a smile back to his face but nothing worked until one day, exactly 10 years to the day after Julia had been laid in the ground, a letter was delivered to him. It was postmarked from Savannah just a few days earlier. 

The later stated, "My dear mortal Barnsley, Julia is with me and all doing just fine." It was signed William Scarborough and was written in his deceased father-in-law's distinctive handwriting.

Godfrey immediately seemed to be better and once again began to take interest in his business and life. He never remarried, but his smile and zest for life returned. In 1873, he passed away of natural causes and was buried beside Julia in the garden of roses. The mysterious letter was handed down for several generations but it eventually was lost and now nobody knows what happened to that very unexplainable missive.  For Godfrey, it was a desperately needed message, a message from a different realm which arrived just in time to give life back to a good man.

Old Brit Bailey

James Briton Bailey was born in North Carolina in 1779 and married at a young age. He and his even younger wife, Edith Smith, had 6 children over the next 10 years. Sadly, his wife died of an unspecified illness. A year later, "Brit" as he became known, married his deceased wife's sister, Dorothy (nicknamed Dot) which wasn't uncommon in those days. He took his new wife and 6 children with him when he moved to Kentucky where he managed to get elected to the state legislature. He earned a bad reputation for being quarrelsome and confrontational while he served, but apparently everything was fine at home as he fathered 5 more children with Dot. He eventually resigned from the legislature and moved with his large family to Tennessee. There is some indication he was about to be prosecuted for forgery when he left, but no definite proof has been found for this. 

While in Tennessee, Brit enlisted in the military and fought in the War of 1812. In 1818 he once again moved his family along with 6 slaves he had managed to acquire, this time to the wild and wide open spaces of south Texas (still a part of Spanish-ruled Mexico.) Bailey purchased his land from the Spanish government in what would later become Brazoria County between the present-day towns of West Columbia and Angleton south of Houston. On the prairie land in the middle of his property he built a house large enough to accommodate his family and painted it barn red. He built quarters for his slaves, barns, outhouses, sheds, and several storage buildings over the next year and had them all painted the same barn red color.

Everything was fine until 1821 when Mexico won its independence from Spain and the newly installed Mexican government refused to recognize Brit's claim that the land belonged to him. Legal wrangling ensued over the next several years with Bailey refusing to back down an inch and daring anyone to come and try to take his property. In 1824, Mexico granted Stephen F. Austin the right to settle up to 300 Anglo's on land which included Bailey's. Austin tried to force Brit to give up his claim and move along, but Bailey didn't back down from the imposing and strong-willed Austin any more than he did the Mexican government. After numerous confrontations, Bailey informed Austin he was unwilling to move, but more than willing to make him a corpse with his Kentucky rifle. Soon after, Austin recognized Brits claim to a league and labor of land (4,605.5 acres). This land became known as Bailey's Prairie.

There is nothing left of the Bailey
homestead and nobody knows exactly
where Brit stands in his grave.

Over the next 8 years, Brit once again gained a reputation for his eccentric behavior, hard drinking, and being quick to engage in brawls. He remained a constant thorn to Stephen Austin, loudly and often proclaiming his dislike of him. He fought several duels and in true Texas fashion, did things his own way and dared the world to have an opinion about it. 

In late 1832, he became very sick, probably of cholera. On December 5th, while on his death bed but still lucid, he dictated his last will and testament and gave specific directions for his burial. He insisted he was to be buried standing up, "for I never lied to a man in my life and I want no man, on passing my grave, to say, 'there lies old Brit Bailey.'" He wanted to be buried with his face to the west, for he had begun going west when he left Carolina and had never ceased looking toward the setting sun. He wanted to be buried with his trusty rifle at his side with a full horn of powder and his pouch filled with bullets and fresh flints; with his possibles bag filled with pipe, tobacco, strike-a-light and a large chaw and a full jug of whiskey at his feet. He proclaimed the reason for his demands was because, "a man doesn't know how long the road may be and what hazards may be along it and my rifle has never failed me yet and I may be in need of refreshment along the way." Brit died the next day.

"Uncle Bubba," one of Bailey's slaves, dug a shaft grave 8 feet deep in order to bury Brit standing up as he requested. The funeral was held and Brit was prayed over by a local preacher. His body was placed in the hole feet first facing west. Into the grave his wife placed his long rifle, a full horn of powder, his bullet bag full of bullets and flints and his possibles bag loaded with a pipe, tobacco, a strike-a-light and a chaw. However, Mrs. Bailey was a devout Methodist and she simply could not in good conscious put a full jug of corn whiskey in the grave with Brit. She hadn't been able to stop his drinking while he was alive, but she sure could keep the jug away from him now that he was dead.

Very shortly after Brit's death, Dot moved the family to Harrisburg (now part of Houston) and rented out the red house. The first family of tenants moved out suddenly and without explanation just a few weeks after moving in. So did the next and the next and the next. There was a reason. 

The first couple who moved into the Bailey house practiced the most effective form of birth control of the time - they slept in separate bedrooms. Just a couple of nights after moving in, the wife came flying into the husband's bedroom one night and jumped into bed with him. "What's wrong with you, woman?" the husband asked. "There was a man in my room," she exclaimed. "I thought it was you. He was on his hands and knees feeling for something under the bed. I reached out to touch him and my hand went right through him!"

The husband was, of course, skeptical, but the wife refused to spend the night in that room again. Finally, the husband had had enough and decided to sleep in the wife's room to prove it was just her imagination. Shortly after midnight, the husband came running from the room and said, "Not only is there a man in there, but I recognized him. It was old Brit Bailey himself!"

It turns out, the bedroom in question had been Brit's and it was his habit to keep his jug under the bed. Each and every tenant moved out of the house saying they saw Brit Bailey walking around the room that used to be his, obviously looking for something under the bed or in the closet or behind furniture. Eventually, nobody would rent the property. The house and buildings fell into disrepair and crumbled to the ground. Today, no trace of the house remains and nobody knows the exact spot where Brit still stands facing west, but Brit has never left. 

For years afterward, he manifested himself in various ways in and around Bailey's Prairie. His appearances became so well known that even the most skeptical of the hardy settlers believed whole-heartedly in the ghost at Bailey's Prairie. He was still making appearances in the late 1930's when a passing traveler reported seeing a gauzy apparition of a man alongside the darkened road he was driving on. His car abruptly stopped running. The radio came on without his touching it and the antenna started waving around in the air. The windshield wipers, which in those days worked off manifold pressure and wouldn't work at all if the engine wasn't running, began to quickly sweep back and forth. The horn honked and the lights flashed, all without any human actions. The traveler said the phantom looked right at him, then appeared to look into his car before shaking his head and disappearing. When the apparition vanished, the car stopped going crazy, could be started again and driven normally. 

In the late 1940's, an oil well being drilled near the site of the old house collapsed in upon itself every time the bit was removed. When casing was placed in the hole, the casing collapsed inward. There was no known physical reason for either the collapse of the hole or the casing. No other wells in the area had any trouble like this and no fault was found in the casing pipes. The well was finally moved just 20 feet away and no further problems were experienced. Old-timers said the well was being dug too close to Brit's grave and he didn't appreciate it.

Today, a mysterious light is often seen floating around Bailey's Prairie. It appears as a bright, white ball moving about 4 - 6 feet above the ground, the same height a man would hold a lantern. Too many sober, well-respected people have seen it for the phenomena to be dismissed. No scientist has been able to explain what causes what is known as Bailey's Light. Perhaps they should just accept the explanation that has been verbally handed down by generations of area residents - old Brit Bailey is still out there, looking all over for his missing jug of whiskey.