NORMAN FRISBY’S HOUSE – GHOST STORY
Sue Moore
Longview, Texas
January 2021

          Norman Frisby’s strange story did not begin in Tensas Parish, nor did it end there with his murder in 1867.

          Some portions of that dark, eerie story and the treasure hunt associated with his buried fortune have already been posted on this forum. But if you crave to know more, Dick Sevier, webmaster on Madison Parish Genweb, has a great collection of information on the subject.

          Norman Frisby’s story began with his birth in Mississippi around 1817. He married Ann Chambliss in Jefferson County in Feb. 24, 1847. Their home was in adjoining Claiborne County, District 1, and in the 1850 census, he was at age 43, a wealthy planter who owned 56 slaves, $300,000 in real estate, and a personal estate of $132,000. According to newspaper reports, he was an overseer of the roads in his district for a term, a Democratic representative to the state convention and a school trustee – all normal pursuits for any young planter. But then Frisby moved to Tensas by 1855 where he began to build a fabulous mansion and accumulate thousands of acres of the finest cotton land. Much has been written about the Tensas tale, but here is a little “ghost story” about his old Claiborne home.

Source: “Injured Spirits – A House with Weird Associations. A Mystery Which Never Was Solved.” Port Gibson Reveille, Aug. 19, 1915.

          Few people at this late day believe in the visits of spirits; yet on occasions when supernatural – or otherwise impenetrable – things force themselves upon people, it is difficult to throw off that old superstition which has been an element of man’s make-up since the beginning of time.

          More than thirty years ago three stout-hearted Claiborne men who ridiculed such supernatural appearances, have little to say on the subject now —if, indeed, they have not, in large measure, been converted to believe in the very thing they so boldly tabooed prior to that time.

          Away back in the early days of the county an Englishman named Norman Frisbie purchased a tract of land lying between Russum and Westside and built a substantial log house upon it…. Later the place became the property of the late J. W. Martin, who used the Frisbie home to house a family of negro tenants.  In addition to his own family, the negro hired a woman to assist in the farm work. During the year he and the woman disagreed and he forced her to leave, throwing bricks at her as she left the place.

          In the course of time another family moved into the house; and here is where the strange part of this story begins. One morning as the man was preparing to go to his daily work, bricks began to fall in the house, without cause and without revealing from whence they came. Fearful that his children might be struck by the falling bricks, he took them to the field with him, and related the strange occurrence to his fellow workmen. None of the superstitious blacks were willing to venture near the house to try
to unravel the mystery, hut reported the matter to the white neighbors. So earnest were they in relating the story that R. W. Magruder, now postmaster at Port Gibson; Robert Weatherly, at present a resident of Louisiana and W. H. Russum, a merchant of Tillman, decided to visit the place.

          They found the house just as the frightened occupants had left it. Bricks were lying on the floor and deep indentations were made in the heavy logs where some of the bricks had been hurled against them.

          The men walked about the place and stood in the door probably for an hour without incident. Thinking the whole matter only the fruits of a vivid imagination, they decided to return to their homes, when suddenly a heavy brick bearing the name of an English manufacturer, fell on end close to where one of the men stood.

          This was startling; but, having come to unravel a mystery, the party could not let such an occurrence daunt them. So screwing up his courage,  Mr. Magruder mounted a ladder in one corner of the room, which lead to a trap door in the attic, and made a thorough inspection of the place. The solid ceiling with an inch or more of dust lying upon its upper side, showed plainly that no human had disturbed its musty place since the days of builder. There was no chimney, a little stove furnishing the late inhabitants with warmth, from which the bricks could have fallen, though the place where it struck was far removed from the only entrance to the upper floor.

          While they mused the singular occurrence, another brick fell, standing on end as the first one had done. This was too much for two of the party, and they withdrew to a safe distance; but the other again searched the premises without results. Other bricks fell in the same peculiar manner.  The party finally left the house, filled with uncomfortable thoughts of the phenomena.

          Mr. Martin, the owner of the place heard the strange reports, and declared his neighbors were trying to run his tenants off of his place. He went to the house the following day, in a rather unpleasant frame of mind, to assure the now thoroughly frightened negroes there was nothing strange connected with the place.

While standing in the door nursing a grievance against his unkind neighbors, a brick suddenly dropped by his side. He was satisfied that something entirely out of the ordinary was happening; and not waiting for further developments, he left the house with a much kindlier feeling for his neighbors than the one he took there.

          Later, Mr. Martin had the house torn away, for no one would use it, and its uncanny associations disturbed the neighborhood.

          The negroes declared that injured spirits threw the bricks to show their displeasure at the way the woman had been forced to leave the place.

          There is a sequel to the story which is as unaccountable as the occurrence itself. Messrs. Magruder and Weatherly each took a brick which had been thrown to the floor as a souvenir of the only real ghost story with which they had been connected, and carefully stored them away.

          One day, when relating the story to a friend, Mr. Weatherly attempted to show the brick, but, notwithstanding the care with which he had guarded it, his souvenir had disappeared. He then went to see his friend Magruder to inquire of the brick he had preserved. Mr. Magruder informed him that his brick was carefully stored in a wardrobe, but after repeated requests to look, he was amazed to find that his, too, had disappeared. The members of neither family knew nothing of the whereabouts of the strange relics, and have never been found.
          This is no picture of the imagination, but a true story. Either of the participants, all of whom are still alive, will make oath to its truthfulness, and they are men whose word can be depended upon. If you ask them whether they believe in the earthly visitation of spirits, their reply will be: How do you account for this strange occurrence?