Unveiling the Enigmatic Past of the Augustine Inn

The Augustine Beach Hotel, now known as the Augustine Inn, has witnessed its fair share of paranormal experiences. With its long history, it is not surprising that there have been reports of ghostly encounters and unexplained phenomena. 

In 2020, the owners of the Inn invited DSGI to provide a bit of paranormal “entertainment” after dinner. Little did the patrons know that some entertainment is not for the faint of heart.

The location of the Inn is important because of its proximity to the water, wildlife refuge and relative seclusion. This area is south of Port Penn on Delaware Route 9, though the street address is Saint Augustine Road in Middletown, Delaware. Route 9 was one of the primary paths of the Underground Railroad. Its purpose was to aid enslaved individuals in their quest for freedom within the United States.

Diamond State Ghost Investigators president Gina Dunham always tells us there is no sense in trying to understand any sort of paranormal phenomenon without knowing the history of where we are investigating. Sometimes half the team goes into locations without knowing the history, while the other half is familiar. This makes the evidence debrief interesting in the end to be less biased.

The History of Augustine Beach Hotel

Augustine Beach Hotel in 1910.
Photo of Augustine Beach Hotel taken in the 1920s
Augustine Beach Hotel in 1920.

It was built around 1814 by Adam Diehl, a successful cattle farmer who arrived in the Port Penn area in the 1790s. In my research, I’ve read that Diehl named the hotel after Augustine Herman, a notable figure in Delaware’s history. But…. I have also found information saying that Augustine Herman’s son, Casparus Herman, acquired the land and named the area after his father. Casparus built a manor house on the site, which was later replaced with the Augustine Beach Hotel in 1814 by Diehl.

Herman, a Bohemian explorer and cartographer, agreed to map the region for Lord Calvert in exchange for a 20,000-acre estate. Bohemia Manor’s estate touched the Delaware at its eastern end and included Augustine Beach. An interesting factoid regarding the Herman family is that they were not from the United States. They came over from the New-Netherlands/New Amsterdam. He became the first naturalized citizen of Maryland by order of Cecil Calvert, Second Lord Baltimore. The Naturalization Act included him, his children and his brother-in-law. His wife had died earlier. He remarried once in the States.

A historic marker sign for Augustine Beach

The Land near Augustine Beach

I’ve found information about Augustine Herman trading with Native Americans, but I have to wonder about the land on which he settled. Herman originally came to the U.S. on a diplomatic mission to New England to resolve concerns about rumors of a Dutch & Native American alliance against the English. Knowing that much of the Lenape Tribes of Delaware had their land stolen, I am curious if this land is part of that betrayal.

Augustine Beach is located in the ancestral homeland of the Lenni-Lenape people. The link shared states that Augustine Herman was given 30,000 acres, not 20k, and that part of it was indeed tribal land. Given the fact that the land was given to Herman by someone other than a tribe member, my guess is the Lenni-Lenape community did not freely give their land away.

Dancing, bathhouses and race tracks

Image: Augustine Beach with Steamer Clyde in background, Delaware Public Archives, RG 9015-028-000 Caley Postcard Collection. View the source at Delaware Public Archives(This link opens in another tab/external link).

For a good forty years, the Augustine Beach Hotel was said to be a top-notch resort area. People hosted parties, took class trips, held church picnics and went out dancing during the hotel’s open season. Many visitors arrived on the steamship Thomas Clyde from Philadelphia.

For those local to the area, regular print advertisements discussed first-class meals and dancing. The ad shown here was published in the Newark Post on August 12, 1914. You can see it highlights the fine bathing and new sanitary bathhouses. There was a time when bathhouses were considered critical for public health, an amenity considered necessary for people who wanted to host big, lavish beach parties. They provided convenience, hygiene, and social space for visitors to enjoy their time at the beach.

Newark Post 1914

Despite changes in management, the advertisements continued to feature dancing. One such ad, found in the Smyrna Times on November 29, 1945, advertised a 5-piece orchestra performing every Saturday night. The establishment’s patrons were known to be of high social status and were able to enjoy various attractions such as a miniature steam engine train, a merry-go-round, and a shuffleboard.

Smyrna Times 1945

An article published in The News Journal in 2007 quoted then-92-year-old Thelma Bendler, who remembered a hurricane in the 1930s with flood waters so deep that she could dive into the river from the porch of the Augustine Inn.

When the article was published, Bendler’s neighbor, Bill Marshall, 67, remembered when there was a stock-car track near the Augustine Inn, where men would race their 1937 and ’38 Fords.

The 1940s brought more change to Augustine Beach: A boardwalk and an amusement pier filled with rides.

Death by the beach

There are many conflicting reports about the deaths that took place at this location over the last century. Some of these are riddled with gossip pertaining to gangs, bootleggers and underground railroad lore. I’ve heard stories about little girl ghosts and cantankerous previous owners, but finding the details has proven fruitless.

There are confirmed cases of drownings at the beach and bodies being washed ashore. Even a confirmed case of a man who died from being poisoned. Charles Vile, age 25, was a passenger on a steamboat heading to the resort on July 24, 1916. Reports claim he got on the boat healthy, and by the time they reached the pier, he was violently ill. He died the following day. The article says he had several beers on the excursion, and the theory is that the beers are how he was poisoned.

Published in the Evening News Wilmington Daily Commercial on August 2, 1915.

One news article published in the Evening News Wilmington Daily Commercial on August 2, 1915, shares the death of Mr. Yearsley, who died due to a “concussion of the brain” received after being knocked down by a bicycle in the front of the hotel. Though only two paragraphs, the article paints a rather racist picture of what happened. This is a stark reminder of how difficult it is to report on past events because the media’s portrayal is heavily, openly biased the further back you go in time.

A follow-up article published in the Middletown Transcript on August 4, 1915, said the cyclist had not been traced. His obituary was published on August 7 in the Transcript, and it stated that Yearsley had worked at the hotel, specifically in charge of the bathhouses, for 32 years.

Published in the Middletown Transcript on August 7, 1915.

Historical Research Matters

When doing historical research for paranormal investigations, it’s always interesting to find stories like these. Here we have a man who devoted decades of his life to working at the hotel. He was then killed outside the hotel, and the person responsible was not caught. Samuel Yearsley is a name I would ask about while investigating.

The property’s history is crucial to understanding anything paranormal occurring on the grounds.

By 1918, the Augustine Beach Hotel was leased by the government and turned into quarters for the United States Army officers connected to the new Port Penn Plant.

In 1963, the state Board of Health closed the beach due to bacterial pollution, and the hotel was sold by sheriffs sale.

This property was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1973.

Current Day

The Inn’s history is fraught with mystery and despair, hope and freedom, celebration and death. There are likely countless stories we’ll never know about. Perhaps other stories are told by word of mouth, which we can’t prove with documentation.

While the property hasn’t offered room rentals since the 1940s, it has operated as a taproom, bike bar and a VFW post before shutting down and undergoing renovations, turning it into an upscale restaurant.

I learned that a previous bartender, Harry Pressell, Jr. ran the establishment as a biker bar before passing in 2010. He was a member of ABATE of Delaware, a Motorcyclists’ Rights Organization. His obituary tribute wall makes him sound well-loved by his biker tribe. There is an inactive Facebook page that had posted about Harry pretty regularly. One post shows a plaster mask sitting on the mantel of a fireplace. Some say he died in front of this fireplace, but I have not found published evidence of that. The Facebook post says he used to sleep near this fireplace, so it’s possible he could have passed here.

Dining Area of the current Augustine Inn

Augustine Inn Seafood and Chop House

In 2020, the owners of Augustine Inn Seafood and Chop House wanted to entertain those visiting for food and drinks. The ambiance inside the establishment was warm and inviting. They often had live music performed by local talent. They served delicious food and, at times, offered the opportunity for folks to eat, followed by a paranormal investigation. The Diamond State Ghost Investigators were happy to have the chance to investigate this property. We only wish the walls could talk upstairs and in the basement.

The owners we worked with closed their doors to bring the same great food, service, and happy hour to the town of Middletown in the form of Metro Steak and Seafood.

I read that the Inn opened again under new management in October 2022, but I don’t know about the new owners.

Is the Augustine Inn Haunted?

If you try searching the Googles for evidence of ghosts on Augustine Beach or at the Inn, you’ll not find much. The paranormal history of St. Augustine, Florida, is documented pretty well, and it dominates the results. I can only speak of my limited experience

In the basement, I recall seeing shadows moving through our laser grid. We use grids to detect movement and shadows that may not be visible to the naked eye. Sometimes when rooms are incredibly dark, standing back and watching a grid is helpful. Since the darkness can play tricks on your eyes, you should use more than one type of tool while investigating. Several of the guests we investigated also used dowsing rods. We typically also use recorders to pick up sounds we might not hear until later when listening back, but in this case, recordings wouldn’t have been helpful. You need to have a quiet space with minimal interference in the environment if you want a true EVP session with a recording.

According to Delaware Today, the Augustine Inn is one of Delaware’s most haunted places. With dozens of people (who had just imbibed) in small spaces, conducting a proper investigation is hard, so I can’t say we have enough evidence to vault away for this location.

With its long history, it is not surprising that there have been reports of ghostly encounters and unexplained phenomena. Visitors and staff have reported hearing footsteps, seeing apparitions, and experiencing strange occurrences

I feel confident in saying this property is haunted. It has seen too much.

DSGI Visits Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

Sometimes when strangers find out that I am a paranormal investigator or my daughter freely tells them that I talk to ghosts, haha, they look at me like I’m crazy. I’ve got news for you. There’s a whole lot of crazy in the world, and believing in the paranormal should be at the bottom of that list.

In 2021, the Diamond State Ghost Investigators (DSGI) traveled to Weston, West Virginia, for a private overnight paranormal investigation.

History of Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum (TALA), also known as the Weston State Hospital, is a former psychiatric hospital located in Weston, West Virginia. The hospital was built between 1858 and 1881, but it didn’t start operating until 1864. While that seems like a date from a long time ago, it’s unnerving when you learn that the hospital didn’t close until 1994. Some patients who were treated at TALA have been relocated to other locations but are still alive today.

March 7, 1936 (page 1 of 26). (1936, Mar 07). The Philadelphia Inquirer Public Ledger (1934-1969)

The asylum is a National Historic Landmark known for its Kirkbride design, common to asylums of the early 19th century.

The history of TALA is one that turns my stomach. I find it upsetting to think that doctors experimented on people with brain health issues with methods that they hoped would “fix” them. In addition, hundreds of people were admitted to the hospital for reasons that don’t make sense. A husband could commit his wife for reasons such as reading too many seductive novels or having extreme PMS. *note my eye roll* Men and women, boys and girls of all ages, stayed within those walls. Some of the children were born and died there.

The hospital was established with the purpose of providing respectful treatment to patients with mental health issues. They had dining rooms for patients to eat off fancy China plates. Patients were able to move about freely and even go outside to exercise. Unfortunately, as more and more people were admitted and the hospital surpassed maximum capacity, things went downhill. A place built for hope quickly became a place filled with despair.

Too many giggles and too many people

The Philadelphia Inquirer article shared in this post is from 1936. It references an 18-year-old patient who apparently had long-lasting giggle fits. The response to stop this was a “pelvic disorder surgery” performed by Dr. J.E. Offner, superintendent of the Weston State Hospital. Just imagining a young girl unable to stop her giggles in an asylum environment freaks me out.

At its peak in the 1950s, the hospital held 2,600 patients, more than ten times the number it intended to house. Doctors and nurses confined difficult patients in open-air cages to make room for those deemed to have easier cases. The asylum became a training ground for experimental lobotomies courtesy of Dr. Walter Freeman. His “ice pick method” involved inserting an ice pick into the patient’s eye socket and using a hammer to sever the connective tissue in the prefrontal cortex of the brain.

An onslaught of activity

The amount of activity we encountered in only about 10 hours of time was something I probably should have expected, but I didn’t. The energy was that of confusion. You could feel eyes on you at times, with almost wonderment. Like patients wondering who you are, why are you there? We voiced that we wanted to hear their stories, weren’t there to hurt them, and just wanted to talk. At times the investigators, with their headphones on listening for EVPs were hearing so many voices at once that it was impossible to make out what the voices were trying to say. Other times we heard what I consider to be “residual energy imprints.”

Residual energy in paranormal investigations refers to the theory that certain locations can retain and replay energy from past events, resulting in repetitive paranormal activity.

The same things happened over and over again, repetitively over time at the hospital and we hear those imprints. For example, we heard the sound of heels coming down the hall, which makes sense if nurses were walking from room to room. For the most part, I felt anxious. I didn’t feel scared, because the energy I felt wasn’t threatening, instead, it felt a little confused or lost.

Not fear

And then, we investigated the 4th Floor. I realize we were there to make contact, and we did, on every floor, but the entities on the 4th floor didn’t want us to leave once we got there. I was at the back of the line when we were heading out, and that’s when I was scratched. It felt hot, it stung my mid to lower back, and I lifted my shirt to show the team, and they saw a fresh scratch.

I’ve been touched before during investigations, and my hair has been played with, but I have never been hurt. I was upset and shaken when we returned to the break room to regroup with the full team. It wasn’t until after the fact did I really think about what happened.

I’d like to believe that the patient who reached out in the hall just didn’t want us to leave. Maybe it had taken all of his or her energy just to get up to where we were sitting, and then we got up and left.

On our way, turning into the hallway, something ran up behind us quickly and pushed us forward. At the time, we thought it was another teammate playing a prank, but when we looked, there was no one there. Maybe the same person who didn’t want me to leave saw that we were coming back and pushed us forward. I don’t know, but I’d like to think that had been the thought process. I want to believe the patients we encountered while investigating TALA were not malicious or evil.

Saying hello to Lilly

Much like how I grew up, I share my views of the paranormal with my kids. My two oldest boys are skeptical. I appreciate that they should absolutely be skeptical. It doesn’t stop them from wanting to hear about all the investigations. My youngest daughter is a wide-open book who wants to experience everything. I will need to be sure to simmer her down a bit before she ever goes out on an investigation because she needs to protect herself. However, before leaving for TALA, she asked me to say hello to Lilly. When we came across Lilly’s room, we sat in there for a bit, we didn’t get too much activity, but it was the only time the music box played music. I know it was Lilly, and I’d like to think she heard me say that a little girl in Delaware cares about her and says hello.

The lobotomy recovery room

A team member heard a disembodied voice growling close to her ear, while two others saw tall shadow figures in the lobotomy recovery room. We had REM pods set up in the room, and when we asked if anyone was with us, the lights turned on in response. Sometimes the lights moved in succession as if an entity were moving closer to us and backing away. I can imagine patients waking up in this recovery room and not knowing what happened or where they are. Someone may have growled due to desperation to communicate, but the surgery they underwent prevented them from doing so

Facts and vaults

And here’s a random factoid for my fellow gamers out there. The asylum is actually in Bethesda Game Studios’ Fallout 76, it is called Fort Defiance.

DSGI has not yet posted evidence from TALA to our digital vault. You can find evidence from other places posted. Head to our main navigation or click here to see our DSGI Evidence Vault.

The Fort Delaware Ghost Cat

As you know from our previous post about an overnight investigation at Fort Delaware, it is a historic site located on Pea Patch Island in the Delaware River. The fort was built in the mid-19th century and served as a Union prison during the Civil War. Today, it is a popular tourist destination known for its rich history and paranormal activity.

I first joined the Diamond State Ghost Investigators (DSGI) in October 2017 and had never led tour groups before, had never been to Fort Delaware AND I have never even conducted an investigation until then. I was so nervous; my palms were sweaty, and my heart was racing, which had nothing to do with ghosts!

Fortunately, I got paired up with Ken Newberry, and my nerves dissipated quickly. Ken has such a calm demeanor that I instantly calmed down as he showed me the different tools he uses to investigate. This was my first time learning about REM pods! The investigators associated with DSGI are all great people, and I’m so grateful for their mentorship, sense of humor and kindness. Especially to Ken, because he settled me and thus began my exciting journey of becoming a paranormal investigator.

Fort Delaware Kitchen

Fort Delaware Officers' Kitchen
A photo of the officers’ kitchen at Fort Delaware at night.

Ken and I were stationed in the area portrayed as an officers’ kitchen near General Schoepf’s office, where officers’ meals would have been prepared. Fort Delaware staff provided some history on how a kitchen would have functioned during the war. Then Ken reviewed some of the occurrences he had experienced while investigating in the kitchen. There are many stories I could tell about the pantry and the things that happen when men go into Ms. Susan’s pantry, but this story is about something a little bit different.

Now sometimes, the groups from the mainland who come over for these tours are excited to move around and investigate on their own. Other times they are unsure what to do and stand around waiting. A few people decided to stand around the kitchen table with Ken and me while Ken asked questions to the room, like, “Is there anyone here with us?” or “Ms. Susan are you upset that there are men in your kitchen?”

The ghost cat

It didn’t take long before I had my very first paranormal interaction. No, it wasn’t with Ms. Susan, the cook. It wasn’t with a soldier or their family. No, it was with a cat. The pantry door opened just a smidge by itself, as though something had pushed against it softly, not enough to make it fully swing out. I heard the meow of a cat and then I felt it. There was a slight physical pressure or weight against my left ankle as if a real cat had brushed against my leg.

Newspaper clipping that references Bill the Cat at Fort Delaware
Article from February 18, 1998 (page 4 of 48). News Journal.

According to legend, the ghost cat is the spirit of a feline that belonged to a soldier stationed at the fort during the Civil War. Cats were often kept on ships and in forts to manage rodent populations, which could damage food supplies and spread disease.

But wait, was there a cat?

YES! A newspaper clipping from 1998 says the cat’s name was Bill. The same article mentions the Fort having two dogs at one time. The dogs are a story for another day.

A separate newspaper clipping from July 1976 claims that when the Fort Delaware Society acquired a “treasure trove of Civil War photos,” they received photos from Lieutenant A.G. Wolf. Wolf was a Union officer in charge of Confederate prisoners. The article below says that Wolf was not well-liked by prisoners at the Fort, but he did love his cat. **meow**

July 31, 1976 (page 16 of 38). (1976, Jul 31). Evening Journal.

Cat height K2 spikes

I wasn’t scared by the sensation, nor did I feel threatened. I was amazed. To this day, I always recommend our guests hold their K2 meters down by the floor, cat level, just in case the Fort Delaware ghost cat is lingering near the kitchen.

As a side note: K2 meters, also known as K-II meters, are commonly used in paranormal investigating. They are handheld devices that measure the environment’s electromagnetic fields (EMFs). The theory behind their use is that spirits or entities in the paranormal realm may manipulate electromagnetic energy, and these devices can detect and display changes in EMF levels.

Don’t forget to pay attention when you enter the kitchen at Fort Delaware this October during our Paranormal Adventure Tours with the Delaware State Parks. The small cold spot you feel or the slight brush against your leg might just be the spirit of one friendly feline; Bill the ghost cat. Meow.