William Gay and the Bell Witch

musings

On Sunday, I finally went to the Bell Witch Cave and house, which is just outside of Clarksville, in Adams, TN. I tried to go in the fall of 2020, but they were closed then and stayed closed for nearly two years due to the pandemic. I had heard of the legend of the Bell Witch at random times growing up, but it wasn’t until I read William Gay’s novel, Little Sister Death, that the story truly interested me. I read Gay’s novel Twilight in 2008 when I was working at a quilt store in Paducah, Kentucky and I was asked several times why I was reading “that sparkly vampire book”. Gay was a grizzled, Clarksville native who passed away around the time I first read him, and the first section of Little Sister Death tells of his long friendship with the Mississippi writer, Tom Franklin. Franklin’s novel Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter should be on your reading list if you are into crime fiction and the Southern Gothic.   

The Bell Witch haunting was the most prolific and enduring haunting in all of U.S. history and attracted many famous and important visitors, including the future seventh American president, Andrew Jackson, when he was younger. There are several books and films about this haunting and the story:

Revolved around the Bell family, primarily John Bell and his daughter Betsy, who were tormented by a malevolent spirit known as the Bell Witch. The haunting began with strange occurrences like unexplained noises, knocking on walls, and the disturbance of household objects. Over time, the entity's actions escalated to physical attacks, including scratching, hair-pulling, and beating family members. The Bell Witch also displayed a strong knowledge of the family's private conversations and demonstrated an ability to mimic voices. The haunting attracted widespread attention, drawing curious visitors and even skeptics who sought to debunk the events. The Bell Witch Haunting remains a chilling and enduring legend in American folklore, showcasing a dark chapter in paranormal history.  

I was a little sad to find out that the house on the property was a replica of the original house, which is on an adjacent plot of land and guarded heavily by current descendants of the Bell family. It was cool though, as it was an exact replica of the original. The most interesting bit of conversation came as we entered the house, looking onto the hearth and a mannequin of a Black woman wearing mid-19^th century attire.

Other tour guest: Were the Bells Black?

Tour guide: No, this was one of their slaves. They did treat all of their slaves like family and really loved them, though. The spirits, however, were another story. They were very racist.

The tour guide could have been in a scene from an A-24 film as in her local Tennessee drawl, she recited long passages and dialogue from Bell Witch books and told stories about her own ability to see ghosts and spirits on the property. “My parents and my boyfriend think I’m crazy”, she said.  

After the house, we waited by the gift shop for what seems like 30 minutes, for the other cave tour to get back. I almost fell asleep on the porch, in the summer heat as I was tired and my hangover was moderate to severe from a Kentucky Lake weekend just before. The cave tour was excellent. It was at least 20 degrees cooler inside and there were many stories of buried and vandalized Native American remains on the property, local children almost dying, and graffiti, as we stood among the stalactites and flowing water beneath. In a way, it was almost like an episode of Ghost Hunters, or one of those shows. I didn’t hear anything or feel any bad vibes or really believe it now that I was there, but it was nice to see the setting of Gay’s novel and all of that witch lore. I bought a Bell Witch print on the way out and listened to the property owners talk shit about all of the people who kept losing oars on the tubbing river tour, which reminded me a lot of my retail days. I went to a Chinese buffet in Clarksville. I thought about all of the Southern authors I love. I moaned over being so hungover, and I drove the three hours back to Memphis.