“None of the supernatural events, however, quite surpass a memorable birthday party I held here. The sea captain whom I bought the house from was getting ready to remarry,” says Ruth Keyes. “His wife had died after a three-month illness—throat cancer—and eight months later he married his wife’s best friend, who was also widowed. She did not want to live in the Crary Homestead, so he sold it to me and he moved into his second wife’s home.”
Ms. Keyes made the historic Crary Homestead part of her B&B complex, redecorating a suite of rooms for reunions, wedding receptions, and other private functions. About five years after his second marriage, the former owner was about to celebrate his seventy-fifth birthday and, aware of his affection for his home of many years, his wife called Ruth Keyes. She said that it was her desire to celebrate the occasion with a birthday party for him at the Crary Homestead.
“We made an appointment for her to come over so that we might plan the party, and I left the Haley Tavern to go with her to the Crary Homestead,” says Ruth. “She wanted to plan the arrangement of the buffet, the bar, and the room for the cake and gifts. But the moment we opened the front door there was a terrible odor . . . like dead meat. It permeated the whole house. ‘It wasn’t there this morning when I left,’ I said in consternation. My own living quarters were in the house and there had been no odor earlier.
“I immediately asked my handyman to go check it. He came up to the tavern later that day and said, ‘Ms. Keyes, there isn’t any odor there!’ About a week afterward the lady came back so that we might discuss the final details about the food for the buffet dinner, the number of bartenders, and when the cake would be delivered. Once more the dreadful odor greeted us!
“I hope it doesn’t smell like this when the guests arrive,” the lady said nervously.
“That night I watched an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The subject was supernatural odors. The odor accompanying the story was described as resembling the ‘odor of dead meat.’ When I told some friends they said, ‘Ah, that’s the ghost of his first wife! She doesn’t want the second wife there.’ Now I really began to worry. The birthday celebrant was very distinguished and the party guests included a banker, a state senator, and important people from the Mystic Seaport Museum. I could just imagine the good name of the Crary Homestead being ruined by a ghost that smelled worse than a dozen dead skunks!
“On the night of the party the wife set out with her unsuspecting husband for a destination he thought was to be his favorite restaurant. It was located on the same road as we are. Meanwhile everyone was gathering here to honor him at the Crary Homestead. It was almost time for the guest of honor to arrive and fifty or sixty people were here. Now the couple came in, and, to his delighted surprise, he was surrounded by the smiling faces of his friends. All was well.
“Meanwhile, a friend of mine went through the back room to go outside to have a cigarette. The second wife came back to check on things; he saw her through the window. After finishing his cigarette my gentleman friend walked through the same room and experienced an almost electric jolt of horror. The nauseous odor was back! My friend is a scientist, the head of the biology department at a well-known university and not known for imagining things. He hurriedly aired the room and went back to join the guests. That disaster had been averted by another that was on the way,” says Ruth Keyes, continuing her story.
“The presents had been opened, and it was time to cut the birthday cake. It was made by a person in town famed for baking excellent cakes. It was his favorite, a lovely, moist carrot cake. Everyone stood in a circle, offering birthday toasts, and waited for his wife to cut it. As she tried to cut the first slice, the entire cake fell apart. Underneath the icing was nothing but a pile of crumbs!”
A sweet revenge?
It would seem that the spirit of the first wife prevailed at last!
Red Brook Inn is a short drive from Old Mystic attractions such as the Mystic Seaport Museum, the Marinelife Aquarium, the Nautilus Memorial, historic sea captains’ homes, and two large casinos. It has since been closed to visitors, but anyone is free to drive by the historic red Colonial rimmed by stone walls; it is located at 2800 Gold Star Highway; Mystic, Connecticut 06355.
THE GOVERNOR’S HAUNTED MANSION
WOODBURN, DOVER, DELAWARE
Woodburn, the Delaware Governor’s House, is home to three ghosts.
When Governor Charles L. Terry of Delaware selected as an executive mansion an eighteenth-century Dover house, it appealed to him and his wife as a stately, serene old home. It was also one of the finest examples of Federal architecture in America. Woodburn was built in 1790 by John Hillyard on a tract given to his great-grandfather by William Penn. The brick is a soft, mellow mauve; the windows are large, and the fanlight over the front door sparkles in the sunlight. It is surrounded by tall pines and trim English boxwoods.
Governor Terry did not concern himself with stories that the house was haunted. But there is at least one person who forever believed in the apparitions of Woodburn and in the ghost stories—especially the one about the hanging of a slave-catcher. In his seventies when speaking with the author, Albert Pennington Cooper was one of the craftsmen who performed restorative work on the 205-year-old mansion.
One October afternoon, when he and his helper, Troy, were almost ready to leave, a storm came up suddenly.
Here is how Cooper told the
