Pukwudgies

  There are a couple of schools of thought about the nature of paranormal activity.  One proposes that a traumatic event, such as a mass killing, can trigger ghostly echoes. Another posits that crystalline formations, such as quartz, can record and hold afterimages of certain events. If either of these theories holds water, then Wilton must have ghosts in spades. The town is built on an enormous quartz formation, and it has enough tragic history to put many other ghostly hot spots to shame. To trace the paranormal events that have occurred in this town, we first have to go way back to the late 18th century. In 1773, the residents of Wilton determined they were in need of a new meetinghouse. In April of that year, the town voted to provide six barrels of rum, a barrel of brown sugar, half a box of lemons and two loaves of sugar in order to fortify the men who would be raising the building.

  On Sept. 7, people gathered from miles around, eager for what was to be a day of celebration. Then, things went horribly wrong.  In the midst of construction, the huge central beam broke loose, and 53 men fell 30 feet to the ground, followed by tons of beams and building materials. Five of the men were killed outright, and many others were permanently crippled.  Undaunted, the town tried to build the meetinghouse again, but it, too, collapsed. This happened a couple more times, and there is even a story that, once the building was finished, a fire broke out during a dance, trapping many of the revelers.  Well, that was it. The townspeople reached the conclusion that the site was jinxed, and decided to build elsewhere. After that, there were relatively few problems.  This isn’t where the most famous hauntings occur, however; that distinction has to belong to the Vale End Cemetery, the oldest of the town’s five burying places. It’s here that numerous entities have been observed, including the famous “Blue Lady,” Mary Ritter Spaulding.

  According to Hollow Hill, www.hollowhill.com, a website about ghosts by Fiona Broome, she bore seven children between her marriage in April 1795 and her death in 1808. Her husband, Isaac Spaulding, was a local tanner who could trace his pedigree to the original Jamestown settlers. She’s interred with Spaulding’s second wife, Mary Flynn Colburn, which could account for some of her unrest. Hollow Hill describes Mary Ritter Spaulding: “According to folklore, Mary Ritter Spaulding was a good, church-going woman who healed with herbs and prayer.”  Nobody is quite sure why she haunts the cemetery, but her dramatic appearances in a shaft of blue light have become the stuff of legend. The official records show that Mary Spaulding’s last child was Lyman, born in 1806. Paranormal investigators recently working at the site, however, maintain they achieved contact with her spirit, and she was said to be troubled by the loss of her last child, James, born a year later.  There is no official proof of the birth of this child; he appears to have been lost in the mists of time.  Mary’s gravestone sits almost at the edge of the woods in a desolate corner of the cemetery. The top of the stone has been chipped away over the years, and is now tipped with a jagged, irregular spike.

  Local people regularly leave offerings for the spirit. On the day that I was there, two little blue baby boots were nestled at the foot of the stone.  Really, the whole feeling of the place is more sad than scary.

Perhaps this can account for the visitations – nothing more than a bereaved woman searching endlessly for her missing baby.  Some of the other hauntings at the cemetery aren’t so benign.  There is the story of a massacre, as recounted by the ghost of a Native American warrior by the name of Sochemn, who was channeled by another group of ghost hunters.  According to the North Eastern Paranormal Research Society (www.neprs.com), in his testimony, the spirit said 300 of his people had traveled south to Wilton to celebrate the wedding of one of their own to a local chieftain’s daughter. The white settlers, who had built their homes along the river, didn’t take kindly to the arrival of the natives, and brought them gifts with the intention of getting them to move along.

  This didn’t really take, however, and the Indians simply thought the whites were being hospitable. They intended to spend the winter there, and move up back north in the spring.

According to Sochemn, things reached a head in the summer of 1744. It’s interesting to note that the residents of Wilton had previously felt so secure in their habitation that they didn’t even take the customary precaution of requesting a garrison for their protection. In that year, however, the people suddenly petitioned the British government to send them reinforcements against the Indians.  The petition stated, “We would pray your Excellency that we may have some assistance from the Government, in sending us some souldiers (sic) to Guard and Defend us as in your wisdom you shall think proper.”  According to the spirit, the troops were sent in and the tribe was massacred down to the last woman and child. Whether or not there is any truth to this story is up for speculation; there is, apparently, no record of a massacre in Wilton – but, then, that wouldn’t be surprising, given the nature of the event.  What makes this story all the more interesting is the appearance of another entity at Vale End, which isn’t actually a ghost, but more of a demon, both revered and feared by Native Americans.   The creature in question is a Pukwudgie, a sort of 3-foot-tall troll, straight out of the folklore of the Wampanoag Nation, the dominant Native American tribe in Massachusetts and Southern New England, according to an article by Christopher Balzano at www.masscrossroads.com. There have been numerous sightings of these creatures in the cemetery, often chasing hapless explorers to the gates of the burying ground. According to folklore, it has the ability to appear and disappear at will, and is fond of luring mortals to their doom over the edge of cliffs.

  One might suppose their appearance is the result of the Native American curse on the white settlers in response for the alleged massacre.  Another psychic hot spot is about half a mile from the Vale End Cemetery: the Langdell House, where Mary Ritter was supposed to have spent her childhood. Closed since the 1930s, the house has an evil reputation. One of the tenants allegedly died in the attic, and after that, “figures” were regularly seen standing in the windows.  A local paranormal investigator, intrigued by the tales, decided to make an examination of the attic. Unfortunately, he fell through the rotting floorboards and through the kitchen floor, and died in the cellar. There, it’s alleged, he joined the other spirits haunting the house. Whether any of these claims are true is moot, as the house is now locked up tighter than a drum.

Incidentally, the Wilton Police have more than a passing interest in keeping people out of Vale End after dusk, and patrol the area regularly. If you keep your visitation to the daylight hours and treat the site with respect, you should be fine.  The last stop on this ectoplasmic escapade takes us to the Town Hall Theatre on Main Street.  The original Town Hall burned down on Dec. 8, 1859. The fire happened so quickly that a committee was formed to identify the cause. In the final report, the committee concluded it was set purposely:  “In view of all the evidence presented, your committee are unanimously of the opinion that the fire was set by an incendiary. By whom the deed was done they have not the means of determining, nor of forming a reasonable presumption.”  The site remained empty for more than two decades until the construction of the new Town Hall in 1886. Now operated by Dennis Markaverich, it had been used as a playhouse for vaudeville acts and traveling shows. In 1912, it was converted to a silent film house, and today boasts programs of both new and vintage films.  The echoes of the tragedy of the old Town Hall, however, have never entirely dissipated, according to Souhegan Paranormal Investigators (www.souheganparanormalinvestigators.com).  On one of the staircases, the ghost of a child, known as “Henry,” is said to be still looking for his parents, terrified by the fire of more than a century and half ago. In the ladies’ room downstairs, a woman in period clothing is said to appear in the mirror. The upstairs section is also haunted by a tall, thin male figure who makes his way between the seats.  Wilton is a quiet, quaint little town, nestled on the banks of the Souhegan River; at night, however, it’s apparent that restless spirits still roam its bucolic streets.  Article from nashuatelegraph.com.