The Ghost of Black Rapids

Daniel SmallLost Ottawa
February 5, 2018  · 
A hot summer day at Black Rapids, c1960, Grandpa having me jump in off the pier.

Today, a certified ghost story, one of the hair-raising creepy, sort, and told by Mr. John Boyd, who lived just south of Carlsbad Springs. Mr. Boyd lives in Gloucester, but the story concerns the township of Nepean opposite Black Rapids. The chief actor in this exciting story was Mr. Boyd’s father, a north of Ireland man, who came to Canada in the 1830s, and settled near Black Rapids on the Gloucester side of the river.

Recollection of Drowned Lands on River Sticks (Styx), Rideau Canal

In the1850s there began to sift into Gloucester strange stories about a ghost that was being frequently seen across the river in Nepean, on a vacant farm on the edge of what was known as the “drowned lands”. The stories grew clearer and more circumstantial. Many persons were seeing the ghost, or whatever it was.

One night at the Boyd home representatives of the Padgett, Davidson, Mulligan, Nash, Stratford and Collins families discussed the supposed ghost, and came to the conclusion that the matter should be investigated. Alex Boyd volunteered to do the investigating. It was winter at the time. The next night, being full moonlight, Mr. Boyd decided to make the trip, and make it alone, so that the ghost would not be scared away by too many people. Mr. John Boyd says his father after getting across the river into Nepean went to the home of Allck Mulligan. It was near Mr. Mulligan’s that the vacant farm was and besides Mr. Mulligan was stated to have frequently seen the apparition.

When Mr. Boyd arrived at the home of Mr. Mulligan, Mr. M. confirmed the statement that he had often seen the apparition. He showed Mr. Boyd the spot where the ghost was always seen at aspot near the edge of a marsh. He, however, advised Mr. Boyd not to go alone. One could never tell what might happen. Mr. Boyd said that he was not afraid and that he came alone by choice. Leaving Mr. Mulligan’s comfortable fireside, Mr. Boyd started alone for the deserted farm, and took up a position at a point near the line of the spectre’s regular progress.

He waited with an afterwards admitted nervousness. Shortly after 12.00 (midnight) Mr. Boyd became aware of the approach of a white spectral object. He could observe the form of a man, but there were no features, and the limbs were not clearly defined. But the object moved. It sort of glided along. There was no sound of crunching snow, nothing, but a deadly silence an uncanny silence. Mr. Boyd’s hair began to literally rise on his head. But he fought back the fear that began to assail him.

He had felt himself in the presence of something supernatural. As the white indefinite object drew near Alex Boyd steeled his nerves. He aeciaea to speak to tne tning. ae in a often heard in Ireland that if one spoke to a ghost, it would be set at liberty from its wanderings. As the spectre came within 50 feet the Gloucester man called out: “Who are you and what do you want?” There was no response. When the ghost was nearly opposite him, Mr. Boyd again called out: “Speak, what troubles you?” Again no answer, but the apparition glided slowly by.

Archives of Ontario
Lock, Dam, &c at the Black Rapids – Men pumping Water out of the Lock, to hang the Gates &c, 1830

By this time Alex Boyd was fully convinced that he was talking to a ghost. Cold perspiration broke out over him. He decided, however, to follow the apparition in the hope that it would lead him to the source of Its trouble. The ghost kept on its course, skirting the marsh and heading towards the river, the direction in which Mr. Boyd would have to go to get home. The pace of the ghost accelerated, but the man managed to keep up with it, plowing through deep snow and climbing over obstacles. He noticed that there were no marks on the snow where the ghost moved. He knew then that the thing he followed was supernatural.

In due time the apparition cane to the Rideau River. It descended the bank, and went out onto the snow, covering the river. As Mr. Boyd got to the top of the bank, he saw the appartion go into thin nothingness and just disappear. Mr. Boyd went home that night full of wonder as to what it was an about. Had there been a murder committed on the vacant farm or had some former occupant of the farm been drowned In the river? Later other people from both sides of the river saw the appartion,, but Alex Boyd did not have any desire for a further sight of it. He agreed with Mr. Allck Mulligan that ghosts were good things to leave alone.

From Lost Ottawa

Kris GibbsMy father was the Lockmaster at Black Rapids for the better part of a decade. If memory serves me, it was from the early to late 90s.

Jimmie EllacottWhere I learned to swim in the 50s with my sister Bev.

Eileen MahoneyI remember going there a lot with my parents so my Dad could put his boat in

Geoff Baker

February 9, 2018  · This undated photo of Black Rapids shows the ‘beach’ area in the lower right, with the boat tie up jetty beside it. The beach, in my experience, has very little sand and is grass right to the water, and the water is more swampy than beachy. The weir and chute are on the left in this image, and there is no beach there.

Above the dam is also without beach, but there’s a nice grassy picnic area — on my experience it’s that picnic ground that is the attraction.

David Delaneyused to go fishing there as a kid , while dad sat in the lockmasters house sharing a bottle with the lockmaster , remember an incident when a muskie pulled a little kid off the dock into the river

Margaret McNarryLoved Black Rapids! Mom and Dad would take us there for picnics and swimming. I learned to swim there. My youngest brother was always looking for the “Rabbits”!

Brian NortonRipped bathing suits sliding down that weir.

Betty PilbrowSpent so much time at Black Rapids in the early 50s. As soon as Dad got home from work we’d pack up the car with our coolers, blankets and everything else beach related! We three girls would jump off the locks when Mom and Dad weren’t looking…so much fun

Micheal KostenukIn the early 60s, my friends and I would bike there in the summers from City View. Loved Black Rapids, especially the side with the little dam/falls that we’d slide down.

CLIPPED FROM
The Ottawa Citizen
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada29 Aug 1925, Sat  •  Page 26

John T. Robertson Obituary- Caldwell Bookeeper Rideau Canal

Did Anyone Find the Lost Barrel of Silver Coins That Lies at the Bottom of the Rideau Canal?

When One Boat Filled the Rideau Lock–Rideau King

The Mysterious Light in the Raine House

It sometimes doesn’t take much to give an empty house the name of being haunted. Let a light be seen at night in an empty house, and instantly it has become “haunted.”

Somehow or other a vast amount of people have an innate aversion to an empty house. In their opinion there must be a sound. After the house had had the reputation of being haunted for several years, the ghost was one day discovered with suddenness. A young boy was with other boys playing around Raine’s house as the house was empty. About sixty years or more the child’s grandfather began to watch for the light in the Raine house. Suddenly the light appeared. Instantly the family gossip started the house was haunted.

One evening towards sunset someone who stood on the east side of the house looking west, saw a light in the bedroom window of the old Raine home. There was no apparent explanation for the light. This person told another about the mysterious light, and it was not long before the story went around Almonte that the Raine house was haunted. People just kept away from it at night.

One night for the first time, due to the angle at which a boy stood he noticed the window on the west side of the house.The setting sun was shining, and passing on the window on the east side. Because of the fact that the light had appeared on the east side of the house at night, nobody had thought about the sun being responsible for the light.

The boy was quite proud because he had figured out ‘the Raine Ghost’. He later spread the story everywhere, and the ” Raine Haunt” soon went out of business.

Thomas Raines Almonte — US Confederate Soldier Mayor and Dentist– Biological Mystery!!!

Pat Burns And the Black Pig– A Ghost Story?

This is a near-ghost story, if you know what we mean. The experience was that of one Patrick Burns, a middle-aged mechanic who boarded at Mrs. Richard Guy’s boarding house on Wellington street. The time was the fall of 1868 and Mr. Burns had occasion to go to Conroy’s mill on the Aylmer road on business. He was walking home late at night and the night was dark and very still.

Not long before the Burns trip a poor unfortunate had hung himself in a bush just west of the Protestant cemetery outside of Hull. The bush of course was supposed to be haunted. Just when Mr. Burns was passing the (haunted) bush, he heard through the stillness a rustling noise at the edge of the bush. He stood still and his hat literally rose from his head and his hair was on end with fear. looking towards the bush in the darkness he discovered a dark object on the edge of the road. The object slowly moved towards him.

Patrick would have bolted, but it was fear that held him rooted to the ground. The black object came closer and closer. When it was within a few feet it revealed itself to be a large black pig. At first thought Pat felt like falling on the pig and hugging it, he was so happy. But on second thought, he didn’t. It occurred to him the pig was black and well, you know how it is, with people when they are superstitious. The pig might not be a pig at all, he reasoned; it might be the son of Satan. By this time the black pig had crossed the road and disappeared into the darkness. Pat’s feet suddenly loosened, and he didn’t stop running till he reached Eddy’s corner. Don’t laugh, you might have been scared yourself! 🙂

1. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place. Tales of Almonte and Arnprior Then and Now.
   1. 
      

      Lanark County Pigs on the Wing

   2. Run Pig Run–Shake it Off! Convictions of 1870

      When Pigs Fly or Bacon Up is Hard to Do

      Tuesday’s Top Lanark County Story- Pigs in Dalhousie Space?

   3. The Mysterious Tatlock Mine

Fire Caused Strange Scene Near Portland

In the year 1870 fire caused consternation among the wild things which inhabited a strip of uncultivated land on the north side of the Rideau across from Portland. The land was in North Burgess and was partly rocky, partly stumpy (had been cut for timber) and partly beaver meadow.

The land in question had a frontage of about a mile on the lake. The year 1870, as most people know, was a very dry year and fires broke out everywhere. Something started a fire in this “bad land.” The fire came from the north and the denizens of the “bad lands” could not escape that way.

The fire drove them towards the Rideau River. One day the residents of the south side of the Rideau witnessed a strange scene. They saw red foxes, coons, ground hogs, squirrels and rabbits jump into the river and swim towards the south side. It was a scene never before witnessed.

The Drought of 1871 and the Mills on the Mississippi River

What Do You Know About the Burnt Lands?

When Crops Failed — Lanark County Went Manitoba Dreamin’

Run Pig Run–Shake it Off! Convictions of 1870

The Warning of Death by a Local Farm Hand

There are various kinds of “ghost” stories. Some take the form of presentiments, warnings, etc. Here Is a strange story of a “warning” as told by Mr. Wm. Flood. About 40 or 45 years ago a man named Lamourie worked for Mr. Flood as a farm hand.

One day Mr. Lamourie said to Mr. Flood, “I am going to hear of the death of a dear friend or relative soon.” “Why do you say that?” Mr. Flood asked. “Well,” the other replied, “today I saw a load of hay moving across your lower field without any horses attached to it. In fact there was no load of hay there to move. What I saw was a ‘warning’.”

Mr. Flood tried to tell the man that it was a case of hallucination, but could not convince him. “I saw it with my own proper eyes,” he said. Three days later Mr. Lamourie came to Mr. Flood and said, “So and so (a close friend) died today. I told you it was a ‘warning that I had.” Mr. Flood did not reply. A reply would have been useless.

 

 

1901

 

1903

The Devil Went Down to the PUMPKINFERNO!

 

So what do you think? I was taking pictures at night while waiting in line to get to Pumpkin Inferno and this appeared in my photo! Unedited. Most likely just a light reflection, but because it has a shape I really wondered about it! It is Halloween! Tammy Jordan photo

 

The Climax of Action at Crysler’s Farm by Adam Sherriff-Scotts

I would call the area next to Upper Canada Village called Chrysler Farm a sacred site. “The dismantling of the St. Lawrence Campaign during the War of 1812 was a two-step process. The first part was the Battle of Châteauguay in Lower Canada. The second part and the subject of today’s post was Crysler’s Farm. On November 11, 1813, John Crysler’s farming fields became the site of the decisive battle that marked the end of the attempt to capture Montreal.

The two sides met on a Crysler’s fields on the morning of November 11th. Since Morrison had picked the battleground, he was able to choose better positions for his men. To even get to the battlefield, the American troops were forced to make their way through two large ravines. Then they had to cross the actual field itself, which was muddy due to early morning rain and it was littered with split-rail fences”. The Battle of Cryslers Farm

The battlefield is a sacred place that few ventured near in days gone by. Medicine Men were known to sleep by them fasting for a long time until an evil creature came out so they could cast it out. I think the aboriginal people had it right, as if you think carefully to wars past, almost all were started by someone evil.

Near Crysler Farm it was said that a 3 month old baby was picked up by one of the soldiers as she was strapped to the back of her dead Mother. That soldier adopted the wee child fearing for her welfare and reared it as his very own.

Although the child never remembered what happened to her she inherited a notable trait– afraid of her own shadow. To those who have studied aboriginal culture this is an odd thing as most natives regard shadows as the ghost of another person. The aboriginals are obliged to respect nature, rocks, deer and the sun and the moon and so on. They say each of them carry a multitude of ghosts on either side of them in tribute. None the less spirits of any kind are very real to them. Every native has its ghost or devil place which are haunted localities. One of them seems to be the area Tammy Jordan took the above photograph.

That a malicious spirit or a form of the devil lives in this area is indisputable because practically every member of that aboriginal band that lived nearby had seen it. Stories were told that they used to go in number, hold hands and chanted while they waited for him to appear. From my point of view the red thing seen in the photograph has a tangible shell which contained a potency of some type of spirit. It was a definite malevolent spirit that goes flying about.

In the Indian mythology nearly every ghost seen near a battlefield is descended from from an ancestral giant of ferocious and dangerous attributes which was finally killed by some tribal heroe. As that little native girl that was adopted after the Crysler Farm war would learn years later, you just can’t run from the shadows– but you can invite it to dance. Like Tammy Jordan did taking photos.

 

PUMPKINFERNO

Award-winning Pumpkinferno returns featuring a selection of specially designed Canada 150 themed pumpkin-carved displays! This mesmerizing installation of artist-inspired, glowing pumpkins is a not-to-be-missed event for ALL ages!

Click here–

 

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun and Screamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

 

The Next Time You Bite into Laura Secord– The Sweet Facts

 

Assassinated Gossip about Lincoln, Payne and the Thousand Islands

Murder on Maple Island

The Tale of a Pirate named Bill Johnston with Pirate Dog Supermodels

The Lost Island– Now You See it- Now You Don’t!

The Smith’s Falls Ghost Story of 1927

The year of 1927 will always be remembered by the residents of Smith’s Falls. It was nothing but a wacky year with sightings of ghostly figures roaming through the Anglican church cemetery. Things got so out of hand the stories made the International press and night after night some of the citizens of Smith’s Falls hung out at the cemetery hoping to see one of these ghosts.

After a few weeks of  seeing nothing but shivering ghost fans everything petered out and the vigil was over. Later, upon examination of the cemetery a deep pit was found covered over in planks. Lodged in the centre was a trap door with a hangman’s noose clinging to it covered in red, which turned out to be paint.

An explanation could never be found and the young lads of Smith’s Falls hoping the ghostly spirit would not die sent letters from spirits to the local police. After a lengthy investigation everyone laughed the whole thing off.

So what really happened that year? Was it the local lads? Or was it something from beyond that will never be explained?

 

True Ghost Story: The Ghost of James (True Smiths Falls Ghost Stories)

Location:Smiths Falls, Ontario, Canada

The following report was sent by Kenneth on Dec 14, 2006:

“Well it’s not much of a story as it’s me recounting some eerie things that sparked my interest in ghost research in the first place. We lived in a house that was close to 100 years old, it was a nice early 20th century home with big rooms and a nice hard wood floor. The house itself was built in 1905 and it had a fire sometime in the 30’s or 40’s which took out the back wall of the house as well as a chimney.

That was just to place you at the scene. When I was young there were some very strange things that happened in this house. There were numerous occasions where we would all be sitting downstairs in the living room of the house and we could hear heavy boot steps going from one end of the house to the other. They were definately boot steps. This was not an old house settling. I would know those sounds anywhere. This was distinct foot steps going from one end of the house to the other. They were really frequent at times especially at night. Being the rational person I am I have tried to rule out the possibility of a ghost in my house but it always creeps back.

One night my brother awoke to seeing a hand crawling up the wall with a reddish tinge. My dad ran in and turned on the lights and no more hand. Now I was not a direct witness to this at all I was not even 2 years old then. I don’t know how to explain this one at all. There are many possibilities.

Last but not least, James saved my life in a way. I was very inebriated after a party at my house and all was done and over. I was alone in my room there was no-one else in the house as they had all left for the night. It was about 3 AM and I was definitely ready to crash. As I did, I had not been asleep for ten minutes when I was jerked awake by a cold force. And I heard MY NAME called three times. As I was really freaked out I was still inebriated and I rolled over. The point is that I was praying to the bucket all night long after that. If I had not have rolled over I would have choked on my own stupidity for sure as I was lying on my back. Strangely enough that is the only thing I can remember from that night.

Any who to conclude with my all too common account I did get some closure and that is also how I put it all together. I came Home from College with my Wife and our son. I had asked my mother if she had heard the “footsteps” lately as a joke. She quickly replied that James was still around in the house and keeping an eye on things. I asked her how she knew his name and she mentioned that in a particular part of the home she would always get images flashing in her head of a WW2 soldier. One time she just got a name, so she looked it up and sure enough the parents of James were the first owners of the house. I asked the living family members about a soldier and they verified that he had been shot in the war. Had he come back home to the place he loved. I will never know but its how I became interested in ghosts and paranormal activities.”

Kenneth sent the following update into their website on Nov 2, 2007:

“Its not much of a story per say more just to follow up on the story I wrote in 2006 about “James”. I found out his actual name is Norman D. Tysick. He was a private in WW2 and died at the age of 26 somewhere in the Italian campaign. Dug up some old census records and voting records. According to his relatives he had fought with his parents before leaving for the War.

Just to correct some of my mistakes. This information is actual government recorded  as there were only 2 casualties with the last name Tysick in WW2 and none in WW1.

For all those people out there. A ghost can be a scary experience, but now that I know who mine was I feel more respect for him than FEAR.

 

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun and Screamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

 

The Tragic Tale of the Rideau Ferry Swing Bridge

The Bascule Bridge of Smiths Falls — A Ghost Story

True Ghost Stories–Who was the Burgess Ghost?

 

Friday October the 13th– 6:30.. meet in front of the old Leland Hotel on Bridge Street (Scott Reid’s office) and enjoy a one hour Bridge Street walk with stories of murder mayhem and Believe it or Not!!. Some tales might not be appropriate for young ears. FREE!–

 

 

Here we go Carleton Place– Mark Your Calendars–
Friday October the 13th– 6:30.. meet in front of the old Leland Hotel on Bridge Street (Scott Reid’s office) and enjoy a one hour Bridge Street walk with stories of murder mayhem and Believe it or Not!!. Some tales might not be appropriate for young ears. FREE!–

Join us and learn about the history under your feet! This year’s St. James Cemetery Walk will take place Thursday October 19th and october 21– Museum Curator Jennfer Irwin will lead you through the gravestones and introduce you to some of our most memorable lost souls!
Be ready for a few surprises along the way….
This walk takes place in the dark on uneven ground. Please wear proper footwear and bring a small flashlight if you like.
Tickets available at the Museum, 267 Edmund Street. Two dates!!!
https://www.facebook.com/events/1211329495678960/

OCT 28th
Downtown Carleton Place Halloween Trick or Treat Day–https://www.facebook.com/events/489742168060479/

The Secret of the Widow’s House

 

 

Gary Box commented on my story called So Who Lived at 410 Franktown Road? yesterday and I was immediately interested.

“This is a wonderful but sad story…..it is one of my favourite homes when I visit Carleton Place. We used to call it the “Widow’s House” when we were kids. It should be made a Historic Site!”

Okay, you don’t give Linda short answers as she wants to know more. So I asked why and Gary responded:

“If I remember correctly, there was a white “Widow’s Peek” on top of the house which is no longer there. Remember, I was quite young (about 10) and someone told me a story about a Widow who used to walk around the Widow’s Peek at night in the moonlight—very scary. Obviously it was just a story but the Widow’s House stuck as a nickname.”

Now I looked at the picture and could see immediately where that a * “Widow’s Peak” was definitely on that home. Then I went and looked at that small square roof line and sure enough there is trim there where probably a small Widow’s Peak existed.  I had written about a wandering soul in  Hocus Pocus –Necromancy at Fitch Bay,  but what about Carleton Place? So, because it is October– here is my first local fictional ghost story of the season dedicated to Gary Box.

 

 

                  The Secret of the Widow’s House

 

If you wander down Franktown Road some dark evening, chances are you will see what some say is the ghost of a woman who is wandering around the property of 410 Franktown Road. Many women and children in the area have been said to have seen her heavily draped in black and are terror stricken of coming out of their homes after 9 o’clock at night.

*Henry Graham that lives near by thinks if he gets within grabbing distance of the ghost something will happen. The local women are praying earnestly that the ghost falls into his clutches because until she is caught they cannot go to quilting parties, and other diversions. Many of the women also complain of being deprived of going down to the train station to see the last evening express train come in because of the spirit of the wandering widow.

Th ghost is said to haunt the area on a nightly basis and if you go near the property the first thing a person feels is a cold clammy sensation and hears a distant tinkling bell. When Mr. Graham first felt the ghost he turned around and said he saw the ghost of a woman in black from head to toe. He tipped his hat and stepped forward to it and she suddenly disappeared. Mr. Graham guesses he has seen ten women this week rushing for home on Franktown Road nervous about hearing that tinkling bell.

Those were troublesome times back in that dark period of our town’s life some said. There was no doubt that 410 Franktown Road had always had been haunted according to the townsfolk. If you stood there and looked at the property in the dead of night you would hear funny noises—uncanny noises, that would make you think of ghosts and hobgoblins. What causes them nobody knows. It could be mice, or the passing of a breeze under worn out eaves. Who knows?

One cold night in November some young local lads sat down in front of the house and formed a half circle. One recalled shivering each time they heard the clatter of  any shingle that rattled on the Widow’s Peak. At about 9 o’clock their conversation stopped, and in the silence of the night they heard a strange sound. Suddenly they could hear each others heartbeats and fear tugged at their very souls.

“It’s the widow’s ghost!” they cried, and with a clear distinctness they heard a small faint bell. They sat motionless for a few seconds, and again they heard the tinkling sound. One of the boys insisted that they heard her groan, but the others insisted it was nothing more than the sobbing of a restless wind. The bell jingled again and the sound began to partake of the dark and unknown. But, the boys did not run helter-skelter from the building –they remained a shivering trembling crew, determined to become heroes and solve the mystery.

The boys said they became aware of a heavy passing body- yet nothing was visible to their eyes–nothing but dark empty space. One of them picked up a large stone and threw it.  The crash of a stone through the window most certainly awoke anyone in the house and instantly they heard an ungodly cry. They ran to their respective homes after that not caring if they ever found out about the Widow’s Peak Ghost.

The next morning they returned to the scene of the crime and in the gray light of the early dawn there was no sight of anything unusual only a broken window–and that was done by them, not by a ghost. They no longer heard the ghostly tinkling bell, and it wasn’t until two years later when the mystery was explained. One day on passing by the home one of the boys encountered an old man sitting outside with a half grown cat in his lap. The lad admired the cat, and the old man agreed he was lovely, but mentioned that the boy would have loved his other cat better.

“Other cat?” The boy asked. The elderly gentleman nodded and replied that his former cat was a fine gray cat, and one dark night a few years ago he found him deceased by the front door. A stone had hit his head hard and the little silver bell he wore on is neck was also rusty-coloured with blood.

I like to believe that there are ghosts everywhere, but really, what was the moral of this story? Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings– so do cats, whether they want them or not.

 

*Henry Graham-fictional character although Grahams did live in the area according to the 1905 Carleton Place Census.

 

Widow’s Peaks-No idea what size or style sat on top of 410 Franktown Road– but Gary Box said it was white.

 

 

 

The Bascule Bridge of Smiths Falls — A Ghost Story

 Hocus Pocus –Necromancy at Fitch Bay

She Came Back! A Ghost Divorce Story

The Love Story of the Lanark County Brakeman

True Ghost Stories–Who was the Burgess Ghost?

The Shadow People of Lake Ave East

The Ghost Lovers of Springside Hall – A True Love Story

The Ghosts of the Mill of Kintail

Love, Lanark Legends and Ghosts

Walking With Ghosts — The Accidental Addiction

The Ghost Ship of Brown’s Hill

The Ghost Towns of Eastern Ontario

Linda’s Dreadful Dark Tales – Minecraft Story of the Lake Memphremagog Monster

I’ve got a Ghost Rash… Telling Secrets from the Past??

Friday October the 13th– 6:30.. meet in front of the old Leland Hotel on Bridge Street (Scott Reid’s office) and enjoy a one hour Bridge Street walk with stories of murder mayhem and Believe it or Not!!. Some tales might not be appropriate for young ears. FREE!–

 

Love, Lanark Legends and Ghosts

As the story goes, there was quite a handsome man in Carleton Place, and all the girls admired him. But, in all honesty, he just couldn’t find a wife to suit his taste. One night when he was on his way home from a get together, he met a girl on the road back into town. Immediately he was smitten, and they began to see each other. She came from a family with no monetary means, but her family was decent and of very strict morals. Each time they met, she didn’t even allow him to accompany her to the family porch, only to the final bend in the road. Time was scarce with this young lady as she was always helping her parents with the never-ending chores around the house.

As the leaves began to turn the young man decided to propose. She said ‘yes’ immediately, but told him that she couldn’t do it without her parents’ blessing. He decided the next day he would go talk to her parents on the edge of the village, three houses away from the mill. He just could not seem to find her home as now there seemed to be just only two houses away from the mill, and just a little bit  further there was a cemetery behind a fence.  


The young man became distraught and figured he had gotten the directions wrong. Frustrated he stopped by the fence of the cemetery and out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the first grave. There right before him stood  a monument with a portrait photo of his bride. That my friends was all he remembered and suddenly the world went black. He didn’t remember much after that– all he knew was that he woke up a month later in the hospital.

The Crozier children tombstones-St James Cemetery- Photo by Robert McDonald

Six months later the young man figured he needed closure to what happened. In the field next to the two homes there used to be a house that a family had lived in for 20 years. Coming from a family with morals the father of that particular family had chosen a groom for his daughter himself, but she had refused to marry him. She told her family she would wait forever for her beloved and that eventually he would find her. The Father became angry and locked her in the house, and one night she could stand it no more so she set the house on fire. Everyone perished in that fire and what was left of the house was raised to the ground. The young lady didn’t find her beloved, and neither did the young man. He died unmarried and miserable.

It is said she still walks these grounds today still looking for her beloved. So watch where you walk, and watch what you bump into– and if you see her, tell her that he loved her forever. But, we all knew that.

One of the Many Hauntings of Mill Street

Mill Street as it appeared in 1889. This land was first purchased by a Mr. Coleman from the Morphy family in 1820. In 1822, Hugh Boulton purchased it and finished construction. The mill was later owned by Horace Brown as a flour mill. On the left-hand side are buildings used for the Boulton-Brown Grist Mill, and on the right-hand side is the residence of Horace Brown, grandfather of A. Roy Brown.–Photo–Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum

 

 

One of the Many Hauntings of Mill Street–Linda Seccaspina

 

Life hadn’t been kind to Jim O’Brien. His wife ran off with his best friend and left Lanark County to find gold.  A letter from his wife informed him she was presently in San Francisco, having arrived aboard the Steamship Oregon on June 13, 1849 .  

Mrs. O’Brien was part of a group called the Ogdensburg Co. of 10.  The letter mentioned a James Simpson, James Beckwith and a Mr. Nathaniel McCaffrey of Carleton Place. Jim knew Nathaniel but not the other two men. He wondered if they had run off with other men’s wives too. Jim’s daughter was dying of influenza and he too was struck down with the flu. Only a few dollars stood between him and starvation– but soon after his daughter’s death a minister helped him find work in the Bolton Grist Mill in Carleton Place.

A year later a well-dressed woman breezed up to his place of work on Mill Street and asked for Jim by name. When shown to the office she fell to her knees and begged his forgiveness when he entered the room.  It was his estranged wife, back from California, where his ex-best friend had made a fortune in the gold-fields. His wife’s former lover had died and now his wife wanted to pick up where they’d left off.

But this story was not to have a happy ending. She, herself, caught the dreaded influenza and died of pneumonia, leaving her husband £62,000 in her will. It is said today that when the moon rises high and the night is dark that her soul marches up and down Mill Street looking for her money– but most certainly not her husband.

 

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  06 Sep 1974, Fri,  Page 41