Part of the fun of going to a tavern in olden times must have been the knowledge that you might not make it out alive. These days, when you check out your room at the Courtyard Marriott, you might inspect the sheets for bedbugs, make sure the toilet paper has that little triangle fold, or put batteries in the back-up personal carbon monoxide detector you always carry in your suitcase (just me?), but that's the extent of any investigation. It's all fairly mundane.
Nary a once have I gone up to get my room key, slit my eyes suspiciously at the concierge, assessing my ability to overcome them in a hand-to-hand combat situation, and then proceeded to go into detail as to how little money I regularly keep on my person.
In the 1800s, however, an overnight stay at an inn in a strange town could turn into a permanent resting place if you weren't careful.
Let's take a trip to the Blue Ball Inn in Tredyffrin Township, Pennsylvania, shall we?
"Tredyffrin" has all those consonants in it because it is very Welsh.¹ Or at least it was intended to be. William Penn set aside land in the area specifically for Welsh Quakers in the late 1600s. Treddyfrin borders the now better-known township of Easttown and lies just west of the Philadelphia suburbs. In the early 1700s, as European settlements arose further and further west in Pennsylvania, travelers going to and from Philadelphia needed places to rest along their route. Inns and taverns sprung up accordingly.
The Blue Ball Inn was originally built in 1735, taking its name from the blue ball atop the hitching post that could be raised or lowered to advise passing coaches of folks who needed a ride. Weary travelers could stay and lodge along with their horses and cattle, and wake (fingers crossed) the next morning to continue on with their journey.
The inn changed hands several times throughout the 1700s, but ultimately came into the possession of Bernhard Van Leer in 1759. Van Leer leased the building to various keepers, and then left it to his daughter Mary, who in turn left it to be owned and operated by her daughter, Priscilla "Prissy" Moore in the early 1800s.
Described as a "tall woman with a deep voice and whiskers,"² Prissy married three times but kept the surname of her first husband, Robinson. Why she remarried is unclear, however, as no one seems to know what became of any of Prissy Robinson's husbands. Kinda concerning?
It's safe to say that Prissy and her Blue Ball were not well liked. She had a reputation and a bit of a record. She was described as having a "sharp tongue" and "quick temper," and noted as being "scornful" and "harsh." She had at least one charge of assault and battery, and multiple charges of running a "tippling house" during 1828-1830.³
When a railroad was built nearby, driving customers away from the pike and thus the tavern, Prissy and other innkeepers were displeased. She was even more displeased when a train hit one of her cows and no one would compensate her for the loss. Under the cover of night, she took the tallow from the dead heifer and spread it over the rails causing the wheels of the next train to just spin in place. She was compensated for her cow shortly thereafter.
Sweet little old lady... you can almost picture her spreading dead cow parts on the railroad track... Sketch courtesy of Tredyffrin Easttown Historical Society.
One author claimed that the Blue Ball "[catered] to the lowest dregs of humanity who frequented the turnpike," and that "quarrels and brawls were always rife..."⁴
But not all reviews of the inn were so damning. It's said that some visitors woke to piping hot black coffee and sweet sugared donuts, nevermind the muffled cries for help and digging sounds they heard overnight. Three and a half stars.
The only real downside to staying at the Blue Ball Inn was that you might not make it back out. It seems that travelers who stopped there frequently went missing. Not so much as to spark any kind of investigation, mind you, but rumors abounded. Even when a lodger was found hanging in a tree on the property, Prissy declared it a suicide, and so it was deemed to be so.
It wouldn't be until about twenty years after Prissy's death that a new owner decided to remodel and...
The only thing worse than finding a lawyer is finding six skeletons. The Times-Tribune [Scranton, Pennsylvania], 04 Jan 1902.
It was the distinct lack of coffining that piqued their interest. Ibid.
The "uncoffined" ("coffin," now in verb form!) skeletal remains were intact, though they showed evidence of broken bones and cleft skulls. That these six individuals had been murdered and hastily buried there was no doubt.
It seems old Prissy's line of work involved a lot more physical labor than people realized. If you were a traveler at her inn and had the look of heavy pockets about you, she might sneak into your room at night while you were sleeping soundly and help lighten them for you. To aid in this effort, it is said that she left a keg of whisky and a small metal cup in the rooms of the inn. Travelers could drink freely and then sleep the sleep of sleeps. This made her work easier when she crept into their rooms, bludgeoned or stabbed them, and then dragged their bodies into shallow graves freshly dug in the cellar.
Now, the real travesty here is that no investigation ever took place. Despite years of rumors that Prissy was murdering folks, no one at the time was doing any digging, figuratively or literally. If this had happened about 200 years later in neighboring Easttown, Mare Sheehan would not have simply stood around while tourists fell prey to a scowling baritone of a grandma with a five o'clock shadow.
Would not have put up with this Prissy nonsense
Subsequent owners of the Blue Ball have reported a multitude of strange occurrences, like bureau drawers opening and closing by themselves and clothes strewn about. Some have suggested that Prissy's ghost is looking for clean clothes to wear to hide the blood stains of all the people she killed. Three and a half broomsticks.
Today the Blue Ball is a private residence that has been owned by the same couple for over 40 years. The current owners have heard footsteps coming down the stairs when no one else was home, unexplained knocking at the door, and told the local paper that their antique clock will not work inside the house. They've sent the clock out for repair three times, they claim, and the repair person maintains it works without issue in his shop, but will not work inside their home.⁵
Another former resident of the home claimed that Prissy's ghost followed him even after he moved across the country and has been with him ever since, turning on and off lamps, slamming doors, turning on faucets and moving pictures on the walls.⁶
Whether Prissy's spirit is at rest or is frantically looking for a fresh wardrobe, we can't be sure. But one thing we do know is that the next time we're eyeing that occupancy tax on our Airbnb reservation, we'll be glad to know that at least the only highway robbery happening nowadays occurs before you check in.
The Blue Ball Inn today in Tredyffrin Township, today a private residence. Photo courtesy of Google Maps.
Notes
¹ It should be noted that the Welsh have a fantastic expression for something that is useless, which is "Fel rhech mewn pot jam," meaning "like a fart in a jam jar." This fact is 100% unrelated to the story at hand.
² "A Chill Wind Blows Across the State," Public Opinion [Chambersburg, Pennsylvania], 24 Oct 1980, 31.
³ Chester County, Pennsylvania Quarter Session docket, 1714-1906
⁴ Sachse, 34.
⁵ "Haunting Tales of the Main Line," The Philadelphia Inquirer, 28 Oct 1990, 5-M.
⁶ Hesselbarth, Robert, "Living with Prissy Robinson's Ghost," The Philadelphia Inquirer, 19 Sep 1976, 70.
Sources
Hager, Caroline, "The Blue Ball Inn of Tredyffrin Township," Tredyffrin Easttown Historical Society History Quarterly Digital Archives, (https://www.tehistory.org/hqda/html/v43/v43n4p107.html : 12 Oct 2022); Originally printed Fall 2006, Volume 43, Number 4, Pages 107–111.
Patterson, Emma C., "Blue Ball Inn layout, Owners...," Radnor Historical Society (https://radnorhistory.org/archive/articles/ytmt/?tag=inns : 12 Oct 2022). Pub 1952.
"Prissy Robinson's Blue Ball Inn," This Haunted Place (http://thishauntedplace.com/content/prissy-robinsons-blue-ball-inn. 12 Oct 2022).
Sachse, Julius Friedrich,. Devon and its historic surroundings : summer rambles over hill and dale. Philadelphia: Louis Cassier, 1891.
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